


It’s Not What You Think

by Maria_Albert



Category: D.Gray-man, Karneval
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Burning Airships, Canon-Typical Violence, Capture, Disobedience, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exploding Sheep Dung, Explosions, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gay, Hacking, Hurt/Comfort, Independent Thinking Sheep, Kidnapping, Lightning strikes, M/M, Man Overboard, Mischief, Misunderstandings, Multi, Mutual Pining, Near Death Experiences, Pining, Polyamory, Rescues, Romance, Searches, Ships and Storms (in all meanings of the terms), Silver Yogi vs. Exorcists (it's even worse than you're thinking), Spying, Torture, backstories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-07-26 00:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 115,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7553386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maria_Albert/pseuds/Maria_Albert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>D. Gray-Man/Karneval Crossover. The Black Order is devastated when Kanda, Allen, Lavi and Lenalee vanish. Circus is left reeling when Gareki's search for Yogi and Nai ends in disaster. What happens when Mana Walker's and Marian Cross's pasts collide with the children of Ship Two's futures? This story was originally posted on Fanfiction.net.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prelude - MIA & Chapter 1 - Any Port in a Storm

**Author's Note:**

> The D. Gray-Man characters are under copyright or license by Katsura Hoshino, Shueisha, Madman Entertainment, Viz Media, Kaya Kizaki, TMS Entertainment, Funimation Entertainment and/or Manga Entertainment. The Karneval characters are under copyright or license by Tōya Mikanagi, Ichijinsha, Madman Entertainment, Yen Press, Manglobe, Funimation and/or Manga Entertainment. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.

Prelude - MIA

Chief Komui sat in his immaculate office, slumped over his desk, his head in his hands, his formerly ebullient manner vanished as if it had never been. He hadn’t laughed or smiled, eaten or slept, or even bathed or changed his clothes in days. He’d instead cleaned his office with the single-minded, driven purpose of having something, anything constructive to do, to take his mind off his worries. Not that it had helped relieve a single iota of tension.

The Millennium Earl was apparently no longer satisfied with attacking their Exorcists on land, in the various once thriving towns and small cities infested by his Akuma. Now he was either sinking or capturing the ships they travelled upon instead. Komui almost prayed it was the former. The knowledge that the missing men might have been captured by that sadistic madman, that they might have already been enduring days of unknown tortures, that at this very moment they might all be in excruciating agony, was rapidly driving him mad as well. 

When his phone rang Komui jumped and swallowed hard. “Not another one. Please. Not Lenalee,” he whispered, his hand trembling in dread as it hovered over the phone, reluctant to answer, for fear of what he might hear. His sister should have called in days ago. She knew he worried about her incessantly. Much as she balked at his concern, and insisted he was being overprotective, she never would have voluntarily been out of contact with him for this long.

It could be a Finder: someone with word of Kanda or Allen or Lavi. Or even Lenalee herself. Good news. Please be good news, he begged silently as he lifted the receiver to his ear. “Chief Komui,” he said gruffly, his voice sounding gravelly from disuse, his mouth almost too dry to speak.

“Chief Komui, this is Finder Tome,” the man said, giving Komui a false instant of hope, until he remembered Tome wasn’t working anywhere near the missing three. He was in the port city of Safe Harbor, to meet Lenalee’s ship, the Reliable. At least her Finder had reached his destination safely, from his last report, and was obviously yet well. It was a small but not insignificant load off his mind.

“I’m relieved you’re still alright. You haven’t reported in for two days and we’ve been unable to reach you. That’s not like you,” he chastised, delaying voicing the question he most wanted answered, out of fear for what that answer would be. If Lenalee was with him, surely she’d have called me herself?

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ve repeatedly tried, but there have been unseasonable storms in the area, and atmospheric interference prevented the signal from getting through,” Tome apologized.

Storms. The word sent a shiver of dread down his spine. The other Finders all reported unusual storms, in the areas our three Exorcists went missing. Dear God, please, you can’t. “Please tell me you’re calling to report the Reliable has docked safely,” Komui urged, fighting to keep his voice calm and level, as if that might make his wish come true.

There was a brief pause, long enough for Komui’s heart to freeze. 

“No sir. I’m at the Harbor Master’s office now. They just received word that the Reliable never made it to her previous port of call, in Eastbrook. The message barely made it through to us. The Reliable… I’m sorry sir. The ship’s been officially declared lost at sea.” Tome’s normally calm voice cracked as he uttered the final, damning sentence.

Lost? Lost. LOST. 

Komui swallowed three times before he was able to speak. “I understand. She’s not the first. Three other ships carrying our personnel have also been reported missing. There’s a search currently underway for Exorcists Yu Kanda, Allen Walker and Lavi. You are to head the search in your sector, and to relay information regarding my sister’s disappearance to every other Finder you come in contact with. Our communications have been spotty at best. None of you are to return to base until the four of them are found, is that understood?” The order was an irrational one, but he didn’t care. Reason had nothing to do with this.

“Allen? And Kanda and Lavi? All of them? They…? Yes sir! Understood. We won’t rest until we’ve found them,” Tome swore fiercely.

He was a good man. An excellent Finder. They all were good men. Like family. 

They weren’t enough.

Komui looked around his hideously clean, sterile, perfectly ordered office, desperately seeking faces that weren’t there. Without Lenalee…. He refused to continue the thought. He had to stay in control, to remain focused, to coordinate the search. For all their sakes. 

0 0 0

Chapter 1 - Any Port in a Storm

Allen Walker stood at the bow of the Perseverance, a heavy coil of hemp rope draped over his right shoulder. Both arms were bare, the too big sleeves of his ridiculously large, salt encrusted cotton sailor’s shirt rolled up to the elbows, the skin on his right arm burnt nearly as red as that of his unnatural, inhuman left arm, by the sun. After days of unrelenting wind and rain and waves towering over the ship, he had welcomed the sun, burn and all, for the three days it had shone, before clouds had engulfed the sky each night, though thankfully this time white and fluffy ones, not roiling, black, ominous ones. 

The crew had long since gotten used to the sight of his anti-Akuma weapon arm and stopped crossing themselves against him, as if he were a demon in their midst. His monstrous arm had held the broken main mast aloft for the entire final night of the storm, ensuring they didn’t lose the crucial mast to the sea, until the water stopped swamping the deck, and the winds and rain died down enough for the crew to lash a beam to the splintered wood of the mast, a temporary fix, until they made landfall and could drydock and overhaul the entire ship, to repair the astonishing damage the storm had caused.

Half drowned, barely conscious and chilled to the bone, Allen had slept under a mound of blankets belowdecks for nearly twenty-four hours after finally prying his hand from the mast, and had been ravenous upon waking. Fortunately, the ship’s galley stores had survived the storm relatively intact, the number of cases and barrels shattered and scattered or wetted beyond use minimal, and most of the rest of the crew was still too injured or seasick to have much of an appetite, so Allen was able to eat his fill without guilt. 

He’d spent the three days since on deck, manning any position in need of an extra pair of hands, filling in for whichever of the men yet confined to their bunks or hammocks belowdecks were needed, stopping only for meals and when exhausted sleep overtook him. The life of a sailor was even more physically demanding than that of an Exorcist, but he’d done his best, thankful for the first time in a long time that he had such diverse experience working numerous jobs even aboard ships, all gained while trying to pay off his mentor, General Cross’s, endless debts. Even thought of the man was not enough to dampen his spirits, which though thoroughly waterlogged before, had bounced back brightly, with their usual resilience.

The hysterically welcome, exuberant cry of “Land ho!” a short while ago had been taken up by over a dozen throats, by the men still on deck, those not too sick or injured to help guide the floundering ship, as she limped towards shore. Thanks to the incessant cloud cover of the past three nights, they still had no clue what port they might be headed towards. It was impossible to steer by the stars when those selfsame vital markers in the heavens remained hidden. Williams, the Second Mate, who had been acting Captain for the past four days, had finally just let the current guide them, from the position of the sun alone knowing that it was taking them east, praying it led to land, and thankfully, his prayers had been answered.

“It’s Ship’s Haven!” a voice cried out in shocked recognition and wonder, and there was a babble of astonished voices.

Timcanpy darted over their heads, as if he were as excited as they were by the news. Perhaps he had been to Ship’s Haven sometime in his travels with General Cross. 

Thankfully, Williams called down from the wheel, before Allen could become too aggravated thinking about his infuriating and disappointing mentor, or worse, begin mourning Mana anew. 

“Sorry, lad! That storm blew us off course worse than I thought. Ye’re nearly two hundred kilometers from where I’d promised ta bring ye. But ye can get a ship from here going ta anywhere in the world ye’d care ta be. Four different currents converge just outside this harbor. And from the look of the port, we’re not the only stray the winds have blown this way after that storm, although it appears there may have been more than one area of bad weather. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many ships in a single city, and I’ve not seen some of those since the last time I was in the Orient. It looks like there are ships here all the way from China!” the man said in awe.

China? Kanda is in China. Although probably back at base, by now, unless he’s been delayed for some reason too. Allen searched the Chinese Dragon Ships for signs of his friend: though it was still too far away to make out individual faces on the decks, their distinctive black Exorcist coats were trimmed with silver, made to be blatantly visible, to be seen from a distance. He scanned the surrounding docks for the bright yellow and white uniform of any Finders, too, in vain, but he knew that, just because he didn’t see any, didn’t mean there wasn’t one or more of them deeper in the city. 

They were in practically every town and in many of the smaller cities. The Millenium Earl tended to concentrate his efforts in those places and avoid the larger cities, places big enough to cause substantial destruction and mayhem, yet small enough for him to easily find his next prey. Just thinking about that evil monster made Allen eager to return to base, so he could head out on his next assignment, when for days all he’d thought about was being back at Headquarters, with his friends, particularly when it had looked like he might never see any of them again.

The ship was guided to one of the few empty berths by a small boat sent by the Harbormaster, as Allen stayed at his post, eyeing the various ships, and then, when they were closer, watching the dock they were approaching intently. Once they finally docked, Allen tossed the coil of rope to the pier, and then leapt lightly from the bow to the dock, and secured the rope to one of the enormous, sturdy cleats bolted to the wooden beam through the planking. Then he climbed the rope back onboard, not wanting to wait for the gangplank. 

He needed to recover his packs, his rucksack and the travel bag than now held his Exorcist’s coat, clothes and boots, as well as his spare sailor shirt. He’d need to find an inn, where he could bathe and change, as well as eat, and then try to find a phone or a Finder, so he could report in to base. He hoped they weren’t too worried about him. 

“It sounds like you’ve been here before. Do you know of a good inn where I might not cause too much commotion?” Allen asked.

“You’ll cause a stir wherever ye go, lad. I don’t think this city has seen an Exorcist in years, if ever. But ye’ll be wanting the Journey’s End. They’ve the best food I’ve ever tasted, the finest ale I’ve ever drunk, the softest beds I’ve ever slept in and the prettiest serving girls I’ve ever… well, a young man like ye will appreciate the food and the bed, at least,” he amended, grinning and winking.

Allen felt his face flush. He wasn’t interested in girls at all, as anything other than friends, like Lenalee, and his age had nothing to do with it. He again briefly scanned the docks for signs of Kanda and then, feeling ridiculous for being so disappointed not seeing him, he forced himself to pay attention as Williams gave him detailed directions for how to find the inn.

“Thanks, Williams. Safe voyage, and may the wind be at yer back, when ye’re ready to leave port,” Allen added, the traditional sailors’ parting phrase he’d learned while onboard.

“Safe travels ta ye, as well, lad!” Williams said, giving him a hearty slap on the back that would have sent him reeling only a week ago.

The man laughed heartily when Allen kept his balance. “Told ye we’d make a sailor out of ye.”

“Aye, that ye did,” Allen replied, with an answering grin, easily slipping into the vernacular of the sailors all around him. Then he rolled down his sleeves and put on his gloves, and pulled his knit cap further down, tucking in the stray wisps of white hair that tried to escape, and headed down the gangplank, feeling something like a pirate, Timcanpy perched on his shoulder like an unlikely golden parrot.

The streets were as packed as the docks, and it was odd walking without receiving a single curious glance in his direction. Allen was used to his purposefully distinctive coat, his white hair, his cursed eye, his red arm and the glowing green cross on the back of his left hand attracting all kinds of attention, much of it hostile, but he was instead viewed as just another sailor, or perhaps as a boy playing at being one. The thought made him blush.

Finally reaching his destination, he stood outside the raucous sounding inn, only hesitating for a moment, realizing the entire main room wouldn’t fall silent the moment he walked in this time, as usually happened.

Once he opened the door, the noise level increased sixfold. He headed resolutely for the counter in the back of the inn, where a well-muscled middle-aged woman still maintaining some of the beauty of her youth was busy writing in a ledger.

“Excuse me? I’m looking for a room for the night, well, for at least one night, and maybe more, a bath, and a hot meal and a phone,” Allen said loudly, eager to be heard over the chaos.

“You’re in luck, if you don’t mind sharing. We had two men leave not ten minutes ago, and only one man ahead of you. I’ve heard there’s not a single room left in the city, what with all the extra ships in port, from the storms. I warned the new man that he’d be sharing, so no matter how much he scowls at you, you have every right to be there. You just ask for Marlene if he gets rough, and I’ll black his eye for him, pretty face or no,” the innkeeper said.

“We’re already bringing a bath to the room, he requested one as well, and he needed one, believe you me. That one reeked of vomit, but many of my customers have, these past few days. I’m afraid he’ll get first use of the bath. But we’ll change the water, don’t you worry. The room, bath and meal will be ten silver total. I should charge you fifteen, but I feel sorry for a sweet, polite young man like you having such a surly roommate. As for the phone, we can’t help you there. There aren’t any in the city. They never really caught on here. Too unreliable, with our weather,” she apologized.

Allen took off his right glove, reached into his purse and handed her fifteen silver. “I know I don’t look it, but I eat as much as two men, at least, and sometimes even five. After I’m done with my meal, if that’s not enough to cover what I’ve eaten, please let me know.”

She laughed and shook her head, only taking two of the five-pieces, resolutely closing his fingers over the third. “You keep it, lad. A good meal is the least I can do for you, to compensate for that rude, ill-tempered man. I’ve half a mind to kick him out and give you the room to yourself, but that would be bad for business.”

Allen swallowed hard, picturing a hulking, towering man like General Cross, but someone who might try to beat him as well as belittle him. But he couldn’t be too scary, if Marlene could take him on, could he? Or did she feel safer, knowing she was a woman, and many of the men here would likely aid her in a fight? Although her muscles were actually pretty impressive, especially for a woman her age.

He forced a smile to his lips. “I’ll be fine. I’m tougher than I look,” he assured her truthfully. But he was used to fighting Akuma, not people. In the past, he’d always smiled and gambled his way out of trouble, or run, when necessary. He’d run a dismaying number of times, actually, now that he thought about it.

“Alright then. It’s up the stairs, the last room at the end of the hall, on your left. Here’s your key. He has one of his own, of course.”

“Thank you,” Allen said sincerely, as he turned and headed for the stairs, not at all eager to meet his roommate, but desperately eager for his bath. Hopefully, once the man realized he was an Exorcist, he wouldn’t try to bully him or start any trouble. If he even knew what one was. Williams’ words made him uneasy. He was used to the deference, respect and even fear people showed him. Few wanted to risk angering the Black Order against them, though in reality, they’d never harm the humans it was their sworn duty to protect. Although it didn’t sound as if the man was a local, either, so there was no telling where he’d come from. Hopefully he’d respect the coat, even if he wasn’t impressed by the man wearing it.

Timcanpy rose from his shoulder and flew ahead, up the stairs, either scouting for danger or just curious to see what the rest of the inn looked like. He sighed. It looked like he wouldn’t be calling in to the Order anytime soon, unless there was a Finder in the city for some reason. He hoped his friends weren’t worried about him.

Allen climbed the stairs and headed for the door Marlene had described. He debated knocking, but he had every right to be in the room, and using the key would help illustrate that. He unlocked the door and opened it, striding in confidently, having only a single instant to process the alarming fact that the tiny, seemingly empty room had only a single, large bed before an arm snaked around his waist from behind pulling him back into a hard body as a blade pressed against his throat and the door slammed behind him, trapping him in the room with his attacker, leaving Timcanpy, the only witness to the assault, outside.

Allen’s arm and hand expanded, shredding both shirtsleeve and glove, and he ripped the naked blade away from his throat, and flung it across the room, as he spun away from his attacker and then froze and stared mutely in shock. Kanda?

“Bean Sprout?” Kanda sounded as astonished as Allen felt. “What the hell are you doing here? And where are your clothes?” Kanda demanded.

Allen felt his face blush as red as his arms as he sputtered, still unable to speak. Kanda was asking him that? He wasn’t the one who was naked! 

His mortification that Kanda had been holding him like that while he was naked was forgotten as he realized how terrible Kanda looked: his hair was unkempt, dull and matted, his skin was pale, there were dark circles under his eyes, he looked like he’d lost weight he couldn’t afford to lose, and he smelled awful, like bellowdeck on the Perseverance. 

“What happened to you? Are you ill? Do you need a doctor?” Allen fluttered solicitously.

A look that on anyone else might have been embarrassment flashed across Kanda’s studiedly impassive face. “I’m fine. It was a rough voyage. I just need a bath and some sleep, and then maybe some soup or bread. But where’s your coat, and the rest of your clothes? Were you shipwrecked or something?” 

Had that actually been concern in Kanda’s voice? Allen didn’t think he’d heard Kanda say so much at once, well, ever.

Allen’s attention was brought to an anxious tapping at the window, but he couldn’t see past the drawn curtain. Suspecting the source, he headed for the window. Sure enough, when he opened the curtain, he saw Timcanpy, who fortunately hadn’t been frantic enough to break the window. 

“Stop recording for a while, OK? Kanda’s here, but he’s not dressed,” Allen explained, through the window glass, before opening it. The thought of Komui or anyone else viewing a video record of a naked Kanda bothered him, for reasons other than Kanda’s own potential embarrassment, which he really didn’t want to spend time thinking about, especially now, with Kanda naked. He doubted Kanda cared. He certainly seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that he was nude in front of Allen, as he retrieved his Innocence sword, Mugen from across the room, where Allen had thrown it. 

The realization sent a bolt of shock through Allen. “I disarmed you,” he said in wonder.

“Tch,” Kanda said in disgust, apparently thinking he was gloating, which wouldn’t have been fair at all, considering Kanda was probably a lot weaker now than usual, from what he’d said, and how awful he looked.

“No, Kanda, I mean, I’m not supposed to be able to, not when your Innocence is in weapon form. No one can touch or use our weapons but each of us, right? But I did,” Allen insisted. This was important. From all they knew, only the Akuma and the Earl had that power.

Kanda’s brow lifted in surprise, and then he scowled in thought. “You’re right. I guess that parasitic arm of yours has abilities we didn’t realize,” he admitted.

There was a knock on the door, and Kanda immediately sprinted across the room and repositioned himself against the wall, at the hinged side of the door. Allen went to the door and asked through it, “Who’s there?”

“Kevin, with your bath. The tub at least. Daniel will be up with the buckets of water and the soap,” the man qualified. 

Allen tossed Kanda his coat, which he belatedly saw was lying in a heap beside the washstand and stank as badly as he did, and then opened the door, when Kanda was covered, though the coat wasn’t fastened, and Mugen was still unsheathed, but concealed behind his back.

“Thank you,” Allen said sincerely, as the man set the brass tub down on the floor. Allen sighed. It was roughly the size and shape of half a rain barrel, sliced end to end, though made of metal, not wood, nothing like the full sized tubs at Headquarters. Still, it was far better than nothing.

The burly man pointed indolently at Kanda. “This one give you any trouble? Marlene asked me to make certain you was alright. She thought twice about sending you up here alone.”

“No, everything’s fine. We’re actually friends. I didn’t realize he was in town,” Allen explained.

“Friends? I didn’t know Exorcists had friends,” the man said skeptically, surprising Allen. He, at least, had recognized Kanda’s coat for what it was. The man was eyeing him keenly now, his eyes widening in shock as he saw the softly glowing green cross on the back of his left hand and the red skin of his arm through the torn shirtsleeve. Allen winced as Kevin crossed himself and backed hurriedly from the room, yanking the door closed behind him.

“Idiot,” Kanda muttered, the word apparently directed at Kevin, not him. “So what happened to you?” Kanda asked.

“My clothes are in my pack. My ship got caught in a really bad, unexpected storm. A number of the crew were seasick, even though they were all seasoned sailors, or injured, and I had to fill in where I could, so I changed into more practical clothes. I was all but invisible on deck in my coat, even with the silver on it, and my white hair. I had to hold the broken mast together, the last night of the storm. Our ship got blown way off course, and we had no idea where we actually were, because of the cloud cover. We ended up following the current here. We saw a few Chinese Dragon Ships in the harbor when we arrived. Were you blown off course too, or did you complete your last mission early, and were you assigned here?

“Storm,” Kanda said succinctly, apparently feeling the single word, when combined with the way he looked and smelled, should be sufficient explanation.

“I’m glad you made it safely to port. Is your Finder staying somewhere else?” Allen asked, hoping the man or men had survived Kanda’s mission.

“Shanghai,” Kanda replied.

“Oh. Mine’s still in Madrid. And Marlene told me there aren’t landlines we can hook our wireless golems to, so I guess we can’t call in to Headquarters.”

There was an eager sounding knock at the door. “I’ve got your water,” a young voice called out, Daniel, apparently.

Allen opened the door to a bright-eyed boy, who looked about ten years old, with a yoke and two steaming buckets at his feet. Allen immediately bent and retrieved one of the heavy looking buckets.

“Are you really a demon? The Exorcist’s slave, like Kevin said? Do you have to follow his orders, or he’ll send you back to hell?” the boy asked in an eager rush.

“Demons eat annoying little boys,” Kanda muttered just loudly enough for them to hear.

“Kanda!” Allen chastised, merely by speaking his name. “I’m not a demon. I’m an Exorcist too,” Allen admitted to the boy, as he poured the bucket of water into the tub. 

“Then where’s your coat?” Daniel challenged, mistrust replacing the excitement in his eyes, as he poured in the second bucket.

“In my pack. Speaking of which, would someone be able to launder my friend’s clothes, including his coat?” Allen asked hopefully.

“I’ll wash them myself,” Kanda protested.

“You need a bath, sleep and food. I’ll pay to have them laundered,” Allen countered.

Kanda glared at him.

“I guess you really are his friend, since he’s not punishing you for arguing with him,” Daniel said, sounding disappointed, as he reattached the buckets to the yoke.

“Would you like me to punish you, Allen?” Kanda unexpectedly propositioned evilly, shocking Allen, the tone of his voice sending a shiver of delight down Allen’s spine, followed immediately by a dark blush.

“Just be careful you don’t break the bed. With an arm like that, there’s no telling what he’s got in his pants,” the boy said with a mischievous grin, as he ran from the room, the buckets swaying wildly. “I’ll be back with more water, so don’t start nuthin’ yet,” he called out over his shoulder, as he headed down the corridor.

Allen felt his blush darken. He only hoped Timcanpy still wasn’t recording. He could imagine how Komui and the rest would have reacted to all of that, especially since there was only the single bed. What had gotten into Kanda?

A self-satisfied smirk twisted Kanda’s lips, and Allen felt relieved and oddly disappointed. This was the Kanda he was used to, his teasing almost bordering on cruel. This happened every time Kanda unintentionally betrayed anything remotely akin to compassion or friendship. It was a defense mechanism, he knew it was, both Lavi and Lenalee had told him about it. Allen knew Kanda did that with everyone, not just him, but it still hurt. It was too much like the way General Cross had treated him, though the General had never once been kind to him. He should be thankful Kanda sometimes was, even if those instances were few and far between.

Allen blinked rapidly, fighting the all too familiar feeling of stinging tears. 

Kanda was actually looking angry now. Allen had wanted to unpack and bathe before eating, but he couldn’t be trapped in a room with a naked, angry Kanda. He’d been ravenous before, but now, as he swallowed, trying to clear the lump in his throat, the thought of food wasn’t remotely appealing. Still, it was better than this. 

He reached into his pack and pulled out his spare sailor shirt, and turned his back toward Kanda, as he stripped off the shirt he’d destroyed, thanks to Kanda’s attack. He’d worked himself up to 500 thumbstand pushups every morning now, trying to build his back and arm and chest muscles, so Kanda wouldn’t be able to call him Bean Sprout anymore, but his abdominal muscles were still depressingly abysmal, nothing like Kanda’s. 

He hastily donned the relatively clean shirt, which was stiff and smelled of the saltwater it had last been washed in. They hadn’t wanted to waste any of their precious freshwater aboard the ship, not knowing when they might find land again. “I’m going to eat,” Allen said, as coldly as Kanda would have, abruptly heading for the door. 

He thought he heard Kanda mutter something as he closed the door behind him, but he was glad he couldn’t hear whatever it was. He hoped he got his appetite back, once he smelled the food. He was likely to faint if he didn’t eat something soon, and the last thing he wanted was Kanda ridiculing him yet again about how weak he was. 

He desperately needed to see a friendly face, and almost wished Lavi or Lenalee was here with him instead, hating that he still was glad it was Kanda. Both of them were so much nicer. Why couldn’t he want one of them to be more than a friend?

0 0 0

Kanda stared at the closed door, his self-loathing burning brighter, at the sight of the dejected slump of Allen’s shoulders as he had walked stiffly from their shared room. Lavi and Lenalee would both be furious with him for upsetting Allen, if they were here. They wouldn’t think the single muttered word “Sorry” would have been sufficient apology, anymore than he did. He wasn’t sure Allen had even heard it.

Why had he said what he’d been thinking aloud this time? He was always careful to keep his thoughts to himself, especially when it came to Allen. The last thing he needed was for the kid to realize the extent of his feelings, when even he wasn’t sure exactly how deeply those feelings ran. 

Not that it mattered. He didn’t want to be friends with anyone, let alone feel anything more. The lotus could only keep him alive for so long, especially at the rate he’d been wasting its petals. He was relieved no one had realized what he meant, the few times he’d slipped up and bitterly said, “I’m already dead.” He’d truly been living on borrowed time for years. 

He’d done everything he could to discourage Allen’s affection, but like with Lavi and Lenalee, the more he tried to push him away, the tighter he clung. The kid was like a limpet, and he was his rock. What would Allen do, the day his rock crumbled away to dust? 

Allen had never known his parents, and had tragically lost Mana, the man who had been a foster father to him. Kanda knew his mentor General Cross had been cold and brutal to the kid because he’d been trying to make him strong enough to stand on his own, to finally tell Cross off and leave him, but the effort had backfired: he’d only made Allen that much weaker, undermining what little self-confidence the kid had, further bruising his already broken heart. Kanda had wanted to help Allen and protect him too, just like Cross, and yet so far he’d done just as poor a job of it.

Kanda almost welcomed the next knock, although if that waterboy brat said anything inappropriate, he’d be hard pressed not to take his frustration and self-directed anger out on the kid. 

Fortunately the boy didn’t so much as smirk, as he emptied the final two buckets into the tub, and handed him a cake of soap. Maybe he intimidated the kid, the way he scowled at him, without Allen there as a buffer. Good. It was the little brat’s fault he’d opened his damned mouth and said something that suggestive to Allen, even if his tone had made it sound like he’d only been teasing him.

He was puzzled when the boy stood there, his hand out at his side, palm up. “Why aren’t you leaving?”

“It’s customary when a customer is pleased with your service that he gives you a tip to thank you for your hard work. Them buckets is heavy,” the boy explained, his tone implying Kanda was a moron.

“Then don’t be such a smart-mouthed little brat with your next customer. Now get out before I throw you out,” Kanda demanded, his already thin patience long since worn through.

“Next time I’ll pee in those buckets,” the boy threatened under his breath, as he headed for the door.

Kanda had him by the throat and slammed up against the wall before he realized he’d even moved. He was nearly as shocked by his actions as the boy, appalled at the loss of his vaunted control, at thinking of this little brat urinating in Allen’s bathwater, not terrified, as the boy was. Even enraged, he didn’t murder children. But the boy didn’t know that. “If you do anything to hurt Allen, I’ll feed you to the next demon I find,” Kanda threatened, glaring into the kid’s wide eyes.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! I wouldn’t, I promise!” the boy groveled, instead of kicking and fighting the way he would have, if caught like that. Hopefully he’d frightened the kid enough that he wouldn’t try to retaliate, or get that big hulking brute Kevin to do it for him. Cowards like this one always attacked when your back was turned and your defenses were down. It didn’t bode well for his meals, while he was here, but it was too late to worry about that now. He needed a bath and some sleep. He desperately needed to get his head back on straight. There was no telling how dangerous this city might be.

He released the boy, who ran out the door as if his feet were on fire, forgetting the yoke and buckets. Kanda sighed in disgust, picked them up, put them in the hallway, closed and locked the door, and headed for the tub, careful to lay Mugen in easy reach, in case Kevin or other trouble came to call.


	2. The Mistakes We Make

Gareki cursed as the hot cup of tea slipped from his fingers, fell to the floor and shattered, spraying tea everywhere. He should have used his left hand. He’d forgotten his right arm was injured, since it only hurt when he made the mistake of using it.

“That’s what the sling is for, to remind you not to use it,” Dr. Akari chastised, as if hearing his thoughts, scowling at him, as Gareki rubbed his sleeve over the fresh bandages on his wrist.

Terrific. Of course the Doctor would have to see his mistake. Gareki hated wearing the sling. It didn’t just remind him, it reminded everyone he was injured, again, too weak to fight the Varuga, again. Useless, again. They wouldn’t even let him off the Ship to explore the city with Yogi and Nai, and likely wouldn’t let him help set up for the performance later, either.

“You don’t know what it’s like. You’re not a combatant, but everyone respects you. You’re still a valuable part of the crew,” Gareki snapped sullenly, wincing as he realized he’d revealed too much of his thoughts and feelings.

“Right. I’m so damned valued I’ve let eight people die and haven’t been able to do a single damned thing to save them,” Dr. Akari shot back acerbically, his venom self-directed.

Gareki was startled by the angry retort and focused his attention away from self-pity, and toward the Doctor. “You know it’s not your fault they died. No one’s ever seen anything like that poison associated with the Varuga’s weapons before, something that acts that fast and that deadly.” The afflicted crew members had been fine one moment, covered in vivid, distinct black stars the next, and then turned to dust within seconds, leaving only their clothes and weapons behind. Just thinking about it sent a shiver through Gareki. If Captain Hirato hadn’t pushed him out of the way of that last Varuga blast in time, he would have been nothing but a pile of dust too. A sprained wrist from landing poorly was a small price to pay.

“Then whose fault is it? I’m supposed to be a brilliant researcher, the top in my field, and I’m still not sure it really is poison. In certain regards, it acts more like a virus, but neither a poison nor a virus should be able to work so quickly. What a perfect, freaking prodigy I’ve turned out to be. ‘All hail the mighty Dr. Akari.’ I’ve never felt so useless in my life. I have no business being on this ship. I should just accompany you back to the school once your break is over and take up teaching again, for all the good I’m doing here,” Akari said bitterly.

“You can’t!” Gareki immediately protested. Captain Hirato would be devastated if Dr. Akari left the ship. He tried to hide it, but anyone with eyes could see he was interested in the Doctor, even if he acted like a schoolboy in the way he expressed it, taunting and teasing the man until he lost his temper. But he couldn’t say that. “Yogi needs you.” The moment the words were out of his mouth, Gareki realized he’d said exactly the wrong thing.

“Right. Because I’ve done such a stellar job keeping him safe,” Akari said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “How many times has he reverted to Silver Yogi merely in the time you’ve been on this Ship? I’ve just managed to prove that old adage I always despised true, haven’t I? ‘Those who can’t, teach.’”

Wonderful. Now the Doctor was even more upset than before.

“You can’t leave! Sure, people died this time. But not because of you: in spite of you. Do you know how many times I’ve heard our Combat Personnel beg their friends, ‘Just hold on until Dr. Akari gets here,’ because they know that once you’re there, it’s almost impossible for them to die? Time and again, you save the ones who shouldn’t be able to be saved. One of the only reasons I was able to leave Yogi and Nai behind here was knowing that you’d take care of them, no matter what went wrong. 

“We don’t need another teacher or doctor at the school. You need to stay here, in the field, where you belong. How would you feel, if you were safe in that ivory tower, and heard that Yogi or Nai or Captain Hirato died because you weren’t here to save them, and second best wasn’t good enough? Don’t do that to them. Don’t do that to yourself,” Gareki pleaded.

Akari was studying him intently, actually listening to and contemplating what he’d said. 

Gareki didn’t say another word. He couldn’t believe he’d said so much, that he’d said anything at all. He hadn’t even known these people six months ago. How could he let them matter so much to him? Why was he risking this again? Every time he cared about anyone but himself, they died. He felt himself shut down, his familiar mask of indifference and amused contempt slipping on like a second skin, a protective layer of armor between him and the rest of the world.

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed as he scowled at Gareki. He opened his mouth, as if to chastise him, when they were interrupted. 

“Gareki, are you annoying Dr. Akari about your wrist agai… what happened?” Hirato asked, his eyes going from Akari’s frowning face, to Gareki’s, to his wrist, to the broken cup and puddle on the floor.

“Nothing of import. I was just apologizing to Gareki for being distracted by my research and bumping into him accidentally, and knocking the cup out of his hand. I’ll clean it up. Oh, and I told Gareki he doesn’t need to wear the sling any more, since he’s been adapting so well to using his left hand,” the Doctor lied convincingly, as he pulled out his handkerchief and began gathering up the broken shards of porcelain with it.

Why is Akari lying for me? Protecting me? Gareki scowled. He didn’t want to be protected. He could take care of himself.

“Here, let me do that,” Hirato scolded, crouching down beside Akari. “The last thing we want is for you to cut yourself. We can’t have an injured Ship’s Doctor, now, can we?”

“No, I suppose not. After all, what would you do without me?” Akari asked, sounding as confident as ever, though Gareki was certain he still wasn’t quite as convinced as he sounded.

“I don’t want to even contemplate it,” Hirato said with such surprising honesty, Akari’s gaze jerked towards him in astonishment.

Gareki took the opportunity to quietly slip away, with mixed feelings. He felt a little better about his own tenuous position aboard the Ship, but hated that it mattered so much. Still, if just by being here at the right moment had helped Akari decide to stay, then even if he hadn’t graduated yet, maybe he wasn’t completely useless after all.

0 0 0

“Nai, slow down!” Yogi complained with a laugh, running to keep up with the little Niji. 

“But there’s so much to see, and our performance is tonight, and we’ll be leaving afterwards, won’t we?” Nai argued.

“We might be staying on after the performance this time,” Yogi admitted, not wanting to frighten Nai, but wanting him to know the truth.

“But we always leave once the danger is over and we make everyone forget how scared they were by performing,” Nai insisted.

“Usually, yes. But we’re not entirely sure the danger is over this time. It’s just, with everything that’s already happened, people need something to smile about.” This performance was as much for the Ship’s crew as the townspeople. They’d had casualties before, of course, it was impossible to fight an enemy like the Varuga and always emerge both victorious and unscathed, but watching your friends disintegrate to dust before your eyes and not being able to do anything to stop it was something Circus personnel weren’t used to. There was nothing worse for a warrior than having an enemy he couldn’t fight.

“Gareki-kun will be performing too, right? He has to. After we leave, he’ll be going back to school, and we won’t see him for weeks or months or years and….” Nai’s lip was trembling, and his eyes were looking even brighter than usual.

“Of course he’ll perform! And it won’t be years before we see him again. It will be months, at most. This isn’t the only break he’ll have, and Captain Hirato insisted he be allowed to visit the Ship, since we’re his family.” Not that Circus personnel usually even remembered who their true families were anymore. It was too dangerous. They could be captured and used against them. Yogi wondered, sometimes, if there was anyone important he was forgetting, a mother or father or brother or sister he had loved and left behind. He tried not to dwell on it. It wasn’t just that it gave him an empty feeling inside, like he’d heard the others describe, but that even trying to remember made his heart race in a way that frightened him.

“I’m sorry! Don’t be sad, Yogi-kun! I didn’t mean to make you stop smiling,” Nai apologized.

“You didn’t,” Yogi assured his friend. “I was just thinking too hard about something. Come on, why don’t we see if they have a toy shop somewhere near here? We know they don’t know about Nyanperowna, but they must have all kinds of other toys. I want to buy presents for all the new little boys and girls in the orphanage.” 

There had been a horrific fire at one of the churches in town, before the Varuga had attacked and they had arrived, and a number of adults had died from the smoke and flames, because someone had locked all the doors and windows of the church, trapping them inside. They still didn’t know who the culprit was, or what his motive had been. Only the children, who had been in Sunday school in the basement had escaped, through the one unlocked route to safety, through the cemetery in the yard at the back of the building. Yogi’s heart went out to the poor children, who had watched the building burn, helpless to save their screaming parents. He couldn’t think of anything more horrible than watching the people you loved die in agony and being unable to save them.

“That’s a wonderful idea!” Nai said excitedly, eager to help. 

Not that a toy could replace a parent, but Yogi thought a stuffed animal or doll could give the children something to hug at night, when they’d be most lonely and scared.

“I want to buy a present for Gareki-kun, too. To cheer him up, because he got hurt,” Nai declared.

“That’s so sweet of you, Nai-chan! I’m sure we can find the perfect present for Gareki-kun,” Yogi agreed happily. He hoped Gareki was making friends at school, although he hadn’t spoken about anyone. Yogi had written him a number of letters, but Gareki hadn’t answered any of them. He said he was too busy with his studies, but Yogi thought it might be because he was lonely, and didn’t want his friends to feel bad or be worried about him, if he sounded sad in his letters. So Yogi kept writing, telling him stories about the crew, so he wouldn’t feel so far away, even though they were separated for a while.

Yogi realized Nai was nowhere in sight and panicked for a moment, until he saw him down the block, just about to turn the corner. “Wait for me!” he called, racing after the little Niji. Gareki would never forgive him, if he let Nai get lost.

Fortunately, Nai heard him and stopped, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry! It’s just all so exciting!” Nai said happily.

His exuberance was refreshing, after all the long faces aboard Ship. Of course, everyone had a right to be depressed and upset, after the battle they’d fought. This new type of Varuga was even more deadly than the others they had faced. Even what should only result in a minor injury from one of their weapons proved almost instantly fatal, because of that weird poison. 

How could a poison make such distinct black marks like that, perfect stars, almost like tattoos? It didn’t make any sense. Even Dr. Akari was stumped by it, and he was brilliant. Terrifying, but brilliant. Yogi shuddered, just thinking about him, the times Akari had tended to his injuries, hurting him worse than the wounds. He didn’t know why everyone wasn’t as afraid of him as he was.

“Are you cold?” Nai asked in concern.

“No. I was just thinking about something scary,” Yogi admitted, honestly, as he blushed. “Why don’t we ask someone where the best toy store in the city is?” he suggested. They really couldn’t afford to wander around looking for one too long, or they’d be late for the performance, and then Captain Hirato would be disappointed in him, again. He hated when that happened.

Fortunately, they found a woman walking with two adorable children only a few blocks away, who happily directed them to her children’s favorite toy store, when Yogi asked her if she knew of one. Yogi listened intently to the directions, to ensure he didn’t get lost.

Yogi grinned and Nai squealed in delight when they finally reached it. The long, meandering walk they’d taken earlier had definitely been worth it. There wasn’t a Nyanperowna in the shop, but there were dolls and stuffed animals and toy ships and jump ropes and balls. Nai was like a hummingbird, flitting from place to place, while Yogi eagerly began collecting dolls and animals for the orphans.

0 0 0

Nai looked out of the window, worried. The sun was already starting to set. It had taken longer than they expected to reach the toy store, and Yogi was taking a while, searching for the perfect toy for each child, no matter what they might like. 

Nai bit his lip. He still wanted to buy a present for Gareki, but he knew Gareki wouldn’t want toys like these, that he’d grumble they were for little kids. Nai didn’t want to interrupt Yogi, though, especially not when he was so happy, when everyone had been so sad and upset, because of their shipmates who’d died.

He hadn’t seen any stores that sold guns, but he had seen a store that sold goggles like the ones Gareki wore, and really pretty scarves, too, all the colors of the rainbow. They reminded him of the island Dr. Akari told him he came from. Maybe Gareki would like a red scarf, like Nai’s eyes, or purple, like the ends of his hair, to remind him of Nai, when he was all alone at school?

The store was only a few blocks away; he’d seen it just before they reached the toy store. If he went out really quickly, he could take care of his errand, without interrupting Yogi. It was a wonderful plan!

Nai smiled happily and headed out of the store, turning left, and carefully retracing his steps. He wouldn’t want to get lost. He felt in his pocket for the silver pieces Yogi had given him in the morning, so he could buy his own treats. He hadn’t spent any of the coins yet, because Yogi kept paying for everything they ate. 

He pulled out the coins and carefully counted them, thrilled at the way they flashed so brightly in the late afternoon sun.

“Well look at you, all grown up and out by yourself with coin of your own to spend! I bet you’re on your way to a candy store, aren’t you? Or maybe a bakery? I know a store that sells the best cookies, if you want me to show you,” a teenage boy with a friendly smile offered.

Nai hesitated. He wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers, or accept candy or food from them, but this wasn’t a man, he was a boy, Gareki’s age, and he wasn’t giving him candy or sweets, he was just telling him where he could buy some. 

“No thank you. I’m going to buy a present for Gareki-kun,” Nai explained. “A bright scarf. At that store, there,” he pointed.

“Oh, you don’t want to go there,” the boy said, looking concerned. “They charge way too much! Four times what’s in your hand! I know of a store with much better scarves, that you can afford to buy,” the boy assured him. “You come with me, and I’ll show you the place. It’s only two blocks from here, if you take the shortcut through this alley, here,” the helpful boy offered.

“Thank you!” Nai said happily, eagerly following after the boy. Yogi would be so proud he didn’t spend too much money, and Gareki would be so happy to get such a wonderful present!

Nai frowned as they entered the alley. It was dark and kind of scary inside. But his new friend strode confidently in, and Nai didn’t want him to think he was too afraid to follow. He was a little relieved when two other people entered alley behind them. If lots of people used the shortcut, it must be safe.

“Here’s good,” his new friend said.

Nai was about to ask, “Good for what?”, when a hand snaked around his waist from behind and a sickeningly sweet smelling cloth was pressed into his face, that made his stomach curdle. Nai tried to yell for Yogi, hoping he’d somehow hear, but inhaling to yell made his head swim and suddenly his legs couldn’t hold him and he fell in a heap. Help! Yogi!

The boy Nai had thought was a new friend laughed, cruelly. “Knew he’d be an easy catch!”

There was more mean laughter from behind him, as Nai fought to stay conscious, willing his limp body to stand, to run, as fuzzy, blurred, leering faces hovered over him. 

“This little white haired freak should fetch us extra. Look at them big bright eyes. He’s pretty enough to be a girl,” a strange man crowed happily.

Help! Gareki! I can’t move! 

His whole body felt numb now and it was becoming terrifyingly harder to even hear through the thick fog in his head, and the light around him faded as a second man spoke. “I’ll … Chinamen … pay lots more … last kid … sold them.”

Gareki! Yogi! Tsukumo! He…


	3. Man Overboard!

Chapter 3 – Man Overboard!

Lavi pulled himself along the line lashed from the bow to the main mast, one of the six ropes the crew had fastened across the deck of the ship, to help prevent them from being washed overboard, as they frantically tried to keep the valiant lady from sinking in the violent storm. The whipping wind and crashing waves had taken a tremendous toll on both the battered ship and the beleaguered crew, as well as upon him, since he’d chosen to do all he could to aid the sailors, instead of waiting out the storm belowdecks, with the rest of the now huddled, cowering and praying passengers. Finder Petros was down there too, but only because he was so seasick from the storm that he couldn’t even sit up in his bunk without vomiting. In desperation, Lavi had tried using Heaven Stamp to control the storm, hoping to trap and dissipate it, but he’d only managed to briefly intensify it, before ceasing his counterproductive efforts. 

Even without the wind and brutal, stinging rain, Lavi would have been hard-pressed to remain on his feet. He’d never been so exhausted, so thoroughly drained, in his life. What he wouldn’t give for a few dozen Akuma to face, instead of this undefeatable, unrelenting storm! The immediate fear rose that he might need to face those unnatural monstrosities in addition to nature’s fury, which had him squinting into the darkness around him anxiously. 

It was solely because he was focused so intently on the port side of the ship that he saw the monstrous wave approach, mere seconds before impact. It towered at least ten meters above the side of the ship, and as Lavi watched in horrified fascination, it crested and began to fall towards him. 

Knowing it was too late, Lavi still yanked himself furiously along the rope towards the mast, and the desperately outstretched hands of the three sailors lashed to the solid wood, as they vainly reached for him, terror for him in their eyes. Lavi was still precious meters away when the avalanche of water struck with the force of his Hammer. He was torn away from the rough hemp rope, his hands flayed by it, and washed over the side of the ship between one breath and the next, only it became impossible to breathe, as foaming, churning, icy water surrounded him in every direction. He had no idea which way the sky was! 

Air! Please, I can’t die now, not like this!

He was supposed to live to see the Millennium Earl defeated. To become a renowned General. To become lovers with Yu or Allen. Or if fated to die young, to do so in battle, an honored fallen hero, remembered through the ages, one of the legendary great Exorcists of the Order, his name spoken in reverence and awe. Maybe, at worst, to become a Bookman, like his grandfather wanted him to be, like he had once wanted to be, before his dream had changed.

Would he go to heaven? Would he finally meet the mother he never knew? Perhaps even his father, unless he truly was General Cross, like so many had whispered? Bookman had never spoken a word about the man his daughter had married. He spoke only of Lavi’s mother, though he never once referred to her by name. It wasn’t right that Lavi die not even knowing his parents’ names! 

And what about Kanda and Allen and Lenalee? He couldn’t leave them behind! They needed him! Not only to fight beside them, but to cheer them up and on: Kanda was so dour, Allen so unsure of himself, and Lenalee so vulnerable, all three of them deceptively fragile.

He began kicking and pulling with his arms, the weight of his boots, coat and clothes dragging him down, though thankfully his Hammer wasn’t, since it was made of Innocence. Down? Then up is in the direction my clothes aren’t pulling me! The thought was confirmed by a bright though muted flash of white that could only be lightning, directly above him, past the ceiling of water overhead.

Lungs burning, exhausted arms and boot-clad feet like lead weights, he redoubled his efforts and was rewarded a few moments later by a storm-tossed, rain-filled gasp of frigid air, more water than air, but still, enough to cough and choke and blessedly breathe. 

He cursed a moment later as something hard slammed into his head, but fortunately instinctively grabbed it, before it could spiral away. It was rough wood, as wide across as a man, and cylindrical.   
Lightning flashed once more and he realized it was an empty barrel, either washed overboard or perhaps purposefully tossed into the water to aid him. 

He clung to it desperately, far better able to keep his head above water and breathe while holding it, as he looked in vain for signs of the ship. Gone. They’re gone! 

No, they could be only dozens of meters away, and he’d never know it. Assuming they were still afloat, that the wave that had swamped the ship hadn’t capsized or sunk it. 

The barrel was a gift, but not enough. What little energy he’d had left was being leeched from him by the icy water. Soon he’d be too numb to hold on.

His heart almost stopped as the next flash of lightning revealed a dark shape on the surface of the water, too small to be the Valiant, but too large to be a barrel. Not an Akuma? If he grabbed it, could he use it like a balloon, to levitate above the water, to find the ship, or land?

He headed for the shape, hoping whatever it was he’d have the strength to fight it, if he needed to. Ten flashes of lightning, two dozen mouthfuls and what felt like half a lung full of ocean later he almost wept in relief. A boat. Not the ship, but one of her rowboats. 

With failing strength, he hauled himself over the side and onboard. The boat was nearly half full of water, barely afloat. He began bailing desperately with cupped hands, knowing how futile it was, but then his sluggish brain sparked, and he took off one of his boots and began using it like a bucket, to scoop out the water.

Oars! There are oars! He dropped the boot and abandoned the bailing, instead fighting to turn the boat into the waves, to cut into and over them head on, knowing that if he took even a single one sideways, he’d capsize. 

He alternated rowing and bailing, for endless hours, days, weeks, years, until the motions were automatic and mindless, until he couldn’t remember why he was moving or where he was going. Only distantly aware that the storm was no longer raging around him, but not yet fully abated, he finally pitched forward across the opposite bench, unable to move. 

0 0 0

Lavi awoke face down above a puddle of water, his head pounding and the back of his neck and hands on fire. Had he been drinking and passed out on a park bench, like he found Finder Michael that time? But I don’t drink. 

Am I ill? He tried to right himself and almost cried out as every muscle in his body screamed in protest. He moved more slowly, and managed to lever himself up enough to turn and sit, and his churning stomach fell at what he found: hot burning sun, and water, water everywhere. Suddenly it came rushing back, the storm, Finder Petros, the wave, the barrel, the boat. This boat.

How long was I unconscious? Hours? Days? He was ravenously hungry and thirsty. 

He flexed his fingers and hissed in pain, and looked at his palms. The skin was torn to shreds, bloody blisters scabbed over, cracked and bleeding sluggishly now, from moving his fingers, the backs of his hands burnt red and blistered by the sun, as his neck likely was, from the feel of it. He needed to wrap his abraded and abused hands and then row…

He stared in disbelief at the single oar. The left oarlock was gone, splintered holes where it had been bolted to the wood, the oar gone with it.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” he joked, his hoarse, croaking whisper of a voice unrecognizable.

Gritting his teeth, he cupped his hand into the water at the bottom of the boat, hissing in pain as the cut and torn and blistered flesh touched the warm puddle. He resolutely brought the water to his nose and sniffed. Salt, but how much?

Cautiously, he tasted it. Salt, but not like the ocean. Rainwater mixed with ocean water. He sipped at it. He’d read somewhere, in one of Bookman’s many books, that you’d die from drinking saltwater if you drank too much, but that your body can adapt to even ocean water, if you drink it gradually, over time. He might already be suffering from heatstroke or even sunstroke, and this was at least mixed to some degree with freshwater. Best to build his resistance now, thirsty as he was, before it became an irrational thirst and he couldn’t stop himself from gulping it. Especially as he had no food. No oar. No hope.

He scowled, furious at himself. It was miracle enough that he was still alive. He never should have survived being washed overboard in the storm. He’d found the surface and taken that first precious breath. He’d found the barrel. The boat. Survived being unconscious while the storm still raged around him. Think… 

Hammer! Lavi felt desperately for his weapon, and was relieved to find the handle still somehow securely threaded through the traveling harness on his leg. He had Hammer. His coat and clothes. His boots… no, he had one. The other, the one he’d been bailing with, had apparently fallen overboard at some point. Shirt, socks, pants, knife… Nothing to make an oar from. He could make a pole from Hammer, but he refused to sacrifice the handle… It could extend! Far enough down to the bottom, to pole himself along?

No. This was the ocean, not a lake. The depth of the water would make that impossible, from the resistance, even if he could reach. He couldn’t put the hammer head on the bottom of the boat and extend the handle, without knowing what direction land was in. Even Hammer couldn’t extend infinitely, and it would be all too easy to sink or capsize the tiny boat.

What I need is a sail… A sail! If I place the head of Hammer on the bottom of the boat, extend the handle up, not down! Use the remaining oar as a crosspiece, thread it through the sleeves of my coat, use the coat as a sail! Tie the crosspiece to the handle with my socks! He’d need his pants and shirt to shield him from the mercilessly burning sun.

He began crafting the mast and sail, relieved when the wild plan seemed to work, but sacrificing far more of his clothes than he’d hoped, both his pant legs and shirtsleeves, to fasten the improvised sail well enough that it would actually catch the wind. 

He was wearing only a ragged pair of shorts and sleeveless shirt when it was done. Thankfully there was a brisk breeze for the sail to catch. He only hoped it kept up, that it blew him towards land. There was little more that he could do now, but wait.

Except… Gramps had taught him to meditate. You could walk barefoot on glowing orange coals without burning your feet if you used the power of your mind to overcome the heat. He could meditate, and the deadly heat of the sun, his empty stomach and his panic could all be kept at bay. He’d need to not go in too deeply, though. He’d need to be aware of shore if it became visible. 

He forced his legs, back and arms into the lotus position and gradually cleared his mind of the glaring sun, his aching muscles, stinging hands, empty stomach, burning throat and all the other distractions around him. He’d meditate for as long as he could. He only hoped land was nearby, or that some passing ship might see him and rescue him soon.

0 0 0

Lenalee breathed the clean, crisp, cool morning air gratefully. She’d been confined belowdecks for the duration of the storm. The sailors already thought it was bad luck to have a woman on board. They were filled with superstitious dread at the thought of her being on deck during the storm, though she’d been eager to help. 

Instead, she kept the galley going, freeing the cook to help on deck, where they needed all hands. She tended to the injured, as well, and the sick. They’d ceased glaring at her and muttering about her long ago. By the time the danger was past, she had been all but adopted by the entire crew. She grimaced ruefully. 62 more big brothers, all of them likely as overprotective as Komui.

She swallowed hard, guilt washing over her. Her brother must be frantic with worry about her. She’d been out of contact for days, and they hadn’t even made port in Eastbrook, let alone Safe Harbor. Finder Tome would likely be worried as well. She only hoped he’d made it safely to their destination, that his ship hadn’t been caught in the storm as well, or in a different one.

At least they were finally on their way to shore, though not the shore they’d intended. The Captain had told her that according to his charts, the nearest port was Ship’s Haven, a port far north of his usual route, and it was days away. They’d restock there, and then continue their voyage, once necessary repairs were made. Hopefully, everything would go smoothly from here.

“Captain, there’s something ahead, off the starboard bow! I caught a glint of something on the water! A flash of what looks to be metal in the sunlight. Could be a lighthouse, sir! Or maybe a ship!” the lookout called excitedly.

The Captain scowled. “If it’s a lighthouse, we’re not where I think we are. And if it’s a ship, they might be in need of aid, if they were caught in that storm and didn’t fare as well as we did. Helmsman, take us to starboard!” the Captain ordered.

“Aye, aye, Captain!” the man called as he corrected their course, turning the wheel, as others raced to adjust the sails to catch the wind better.

Anticipation built as the ship cut through the water, heading for the unknown object.

“Sail ahoy!” the lookout called, in a practiced singsong. But then the voice grew anxious. “Black sail! She’s flying a black sail! It’s pirates, Captain!”

The Captain cursed. “Hard to port!”

Lenalee protested. “But Captain! You have eight sixteen pounders! And you told me few ships are as fast as the Reliable. You can’t leave pirates out here to attack other ships, not when you can fight them.”

“I’ll not risk this ship when there’s no need,” the Captain argued.

“Then let me fight them! All you need do is get me close enough to engage them, and you can draw back and leave the fighting to me,” Lenalee volunteered.

“Allow a lone woman to take on a ship full of bloodthirsty men? Are you trying to unman me, Lady?” the Captain asked indignantly, sounding insulted. 

“No, of course not. I’m merely volunteering my services,” Lenalee soothed.

“Pirates aren’t demons, Lady Exorcist,” the Captain argued.

“They terrorize and kill innocent people. That makes them demons in my book, no better than Akuma, for all they’re still human,” she argued.

“She’s got you there, Cap’n. I say we go after ‘em! We’ll give ‘em what for,” the First Mate, Matthews, said softly enough so the rest of the crew couldn’t hear, though Lenalee did.

“We’ll head in close enough to get a clearer look, and judge from there,” the Captain reluctantly agreed.

A few minutes later, an agitated voice called from the lookout tower. “It’s not a pirate ship at all! Looks like it might be a survivor from a shipwreck! A castaway using a coat as a sail. It’s only a small boat. You’d have to be a madman to take that out onto the ocean!”

The crew’s wariness instantly turned to compassion, and eagerness to render aid.

Lenalee squinted, straining to see, as the Captain gasped. “My Lady, I think it’s one of your own,” he said, handing her his brass spyglass.

What did he mean? Suddenly the implication struck her. A black sail that’s really a coat: an Exorcist!

Heart in her throat, she lifted the spyglass to her eye and focused it. The black and silver coat was unmistakably one of theirs, and the second she saw the flash of fiery red hair and green bandana, she knew who it was. “Lavi! It’s my friend Lavi! He’s…he’s not moving! We have to help him!”

“Jeffers, call the ship’s Doctor onto deck! Tell him we’ve got a castaway! Mitchell, bring us in as close as you can, without swamping him. Peters, Durham, McCarty, Murdock, I want the four of you on lines,” he commanded.

Lenalee headed for the rail, but the Captain stopped her. “Let us do this, Lady. We’ve experience with such things. If you approach him wrong, he could end up in the drink, and that would likely kill him,” he counseled.

She nodded, clutching her hands together. She knew she could fly over the rail and get to him faster, but the last thing she wanted was to upset the superstitious crew against her again, not when Lavi’s life depended upon them, as well as her own.

She watched anxiously as the men went over the side. Her heart stopped when one of the men looked at the Captain and grimly shook his head. They tied the rope about Lavi, and he was lifted onboard, the men following after him.

“I’m sorry Lady. He’s not breathing, and his heart’s not beating, and you see how stiff he is, and his skin is cool. Rigor mortis, the Doc calls it,” Durham said apologetically.

Dead? Lavi? But… but he can’t be! He… he wasn’t even fighting. How can he have died out here, alone, from the sun and… the sun! “Why isn’t he burned?” Lenalee asked, confusion and hope both flaring.

“What? There’s no sign it was a ship’s fire, Lady,” Murdock said apologetically, looking at her as if she’d gone daft. 

“No. The sun. His face and arms and legs should be sunburned, but they’re not and... he’s not dead!” she said, suddenly certain of it. She’d seen that position before, Bookman had used it dozens of times. He was meditating!

She tried to go to him, but the well-intentioned men blocked her way.

“He’s alive, I know he is!” Lenalee cried, pushing them aside, realizing she must sound hysterical.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” the ship’s Doctor said, kneeling beside Lavi. He put his fingers against Lavi’s throat, frowning. Then he sighed, his sad, tired eyes looking at her compassionately. “I don’t feel a...” he stopped speaking, his brow creasing, and then he lifted Lavi’s left eyelid, and a look of surprise crossed his face. He dug in the bag at his side and pulled out a small mirror, putting it in front of Lavi’s nose and mouth, and it fogged ever so faintly. “I’ll be damned! He’s breathing! I’ve never felt a pulse so slow. And you’re right, he should be burnt and blistered from the sun, dressed like that, and he’s not even overheated. I’d say he’s not even human, but one look at those bruises, his abraded and lacerated hands, and the burns on them and his neck and I can tell he is, not to mention I’m certain you’d know if he weren’t, Lady,” he said in deference.

“I knew it! He’s meditating. Thank God! His grandfather must have taught him how, and thankfully, this time he must have actually listened,” she said, laughing and crying all at once, the relief shredding her control. But she took a deep breath and quickly regained her composure. “Captain, we need to tow that boat behind us. We need the Hammer he made the mast for the sail from. It’s extremely important: it’s his weapon. But no one should try to touch it. He’s the only one who can, safely, and the only one who can shrink it down to a smaller size. And we need to wake him up,” she ordered.

“We already secured the boat, we’re towing her now. As for waking the lad, that’s up to you and the Doctor,” the Captain said, eying Lavi warily.

She knew how the Captain felt, only it was worse for her. It was unsettling, seeing Lavi motionless and unsmiling, when he was always so full of energy and mischief. But he’s alive! 

What if we’d continued on, and not investigated? She didn’t want to think of what might have happened. She had no idea how long he’d been out here already, how long he could last like this.

“Do you know how to safely wake him from this trancelike state, Lady?” the Doctor asked. “I’m hesitant to try medication, but we can try smelling salts. That should be safe enough. Even shaking him might work,” he suggested dubiously.

She desperately wished Bookman was there. He’d know what to do.

They tried the smelling salts first. Lavi’s nose crinkled and he shuddered, but he remained otherwise unresponsive. Lenalee tried shaking him, and then yelling, but his brow only twitched and creased the most minute fraction. Biting her lip, and feeling terrible about it, she slapped him. His head snapped to the side and his cheek glowed red, but he otherwise remained insensate. 

Lenalee grew more and more anxious as nothing worked. “I don’t know what else to do!” she told the Doctor, tears in her eyes. What if we’re too late? What if he never wakes up, if he finally stops breathing altogether, before we reach the shore?

“There’s one thing ye haven’t tried, my Lady. I don’t want ye to think ill of me for suggesting it, but, well, ye be sort of magical, ain’t ye? Perhaps if ye were to kiss him?” the First Mate suggested dubiously and hesitantly.

Kiss Lavi? How could that possibly work, when slapping him hadn’t? Although… this was Lavi. His grandfather, Bookman, slapped him all the time, and other than yelling sometimes, Lavi ignored it. But Lavi was always instantly falling in love with every pretty girl he saw. She knew he didn’t think of her that way, but still… she wasn’t sure, for all his pining and mooning over them, whether he’d actually ever kissed a girl before. It was worth a try. 

She frowned. A kiss on the cheek probably wouldn’t work. And she’d never kissed anyone before, either. This was going to be her first kiss. Komui wouldn’t be happy about this at all, if he was here. Of course, if he had his say, she’d die a wrinkled old maid.

She took a fortifying breath and leaned into his ear. “Lavi, the most beautiful girl on this ship is going to kiss you, so wake up,” she whispered, blushing furiously. She knew she was passably pretty, and since she was the only woman onboard, she wasn’t lying, but it was still embarrassing to say so. Then she put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the mouth.

His lips were warm, and chapped by the wind and the sun, and they tasted like salt, but they were surprisingly soft as well and… “Mpf!” she complained in shock as his arms wrapped around her waist and he started to kiss her back. 

She pulled away mortified, and more than a little angry. “Lavi, I swear, if you were faking all this time I…” She halted her tirade at the completely befuddled look on his face.

“Lenalee? Why were… how did… where are…?” Lavi looked about himself in a daze, hissing as he turned his head.

“Careful, Lavi, take it easy. Your muscles are probably really stiff from meditating for so long, and you have some minor injuries,” she soothed, compassion replacing annoyance and embarrassment, as she saw how confused and puzzled he looked, like a lost little boy, instead of the confident, smart aleck she was used to.

“The Lady’s right. Take it slow, straightening out one limb at a time, stretching carefully, so your muscles don’t knot up any worse than they already might be,” the Doctor advised.

“You’re on the Reliable,” Lenalee explained. “We were headed to Eastbrook and then Safe Harbor, but a storm took us off course. We’re headed towards Ship’s Haven instead now. Let’s get you belowdecks and cleaned up, give you some food and water, whatever the Doctor thinks you can safely eat and drink,” she suggested. They’d find out what happened to him later. She was afraid he might be the sole survivor of his ship, that they’d wrecked in the storm, or been attacked by pirates, or maybe a whole swarm of Akuma.

She was more concerned than ever at how meekly Lavi allowed himself to be carried belowdecks, instead of insisting he could walk. She only hoped with a warm sponge bath, some food and water and sleep and medicine for his hands and burnt neck that he’d be back to normal again. She again wished Bookman was here. Not that the ship’s Doctor wasn’t a skilled physician, but Bookman would know exactly how to treat him.

0 0 0

Lavi would have been sure he was asleep and dreaming, but he didn’t think he’d ever hurt so much, even in his worst nightmare, and with all the wars he’d witnessed, he’d had a number of horrific ones, over the years. Every muscle was on fire, his stomach felt like it was trying to digest itself, and his head throbbed so hard he could barely keep his eyes open, but his eyelids felt like sandpaper every time he blinked. 

Did Lenalee really kiss me? Surely that part was a dream? Except he didn’t think it was. He could still feel the softness of her lips against his. Komui would wring his neck if he found out he’d kissed his sister. He should be more excited about it, shouldn’t he? Except, she was like a sister to him, too. He’d imagined kissing Yu and Allen, plenty of times, but never once her. He’d imagined kissing them both alone and together. And the two of them kissing while he watched, too. Tch, maybe I really am General Cross’s son. I almost died, and all I’m thinking about is kissing.

Lenalee approached the bunk they’d laid him down on, and Lavi felt unaccustomedly awkward. He tried giving her a welcoming smile, but his face felt as stiff and achy as the rest of him. At least mediating had spared him from receiving a vicious sunburn, like the one on his hands and neck. He could imagine all too well how much worse he’d feel, if he had sunstroke. 

He’d eagerly drunk the small sips of water he’d been given. The ship’s Doctor was afraid his stomach would rebel if he drank too much too fast, but he could drain a lake dry and still not feel his burning thirst quenched. “Thank you for rescuing me,” Lavi said sincerely.

“From what I saw, you pretty much rescued yourself. You were on nearly the same course as we were. You likely would have ended up at Ship’s Haven as well, or near there.” She bit her lip. “I know it will be painful thinking about it, but what happened to your ship? We need to know if we should stay in the area, searching for more survivors. Your ship went down, didn’t it?” she asked, her voice warm with sympathy.

His face flushed in embarrassment. “No. The rest of them are fine, at least, I think they should be. I was helping the sailors on deck, they needed every pair of hands they could get, but a monster wave struck too fast for me to do anything. I got torn away from the line I was following to the mast, and washed overboard. I found a barrel, and then the boat. Three of the crew saw me get swept away, and I think it’s likely that, as soon as it was safe to move, they let the barrel loose, probably a bunch of them, and the boat. There was no way they could hope to turn back and look for me, not with those waves. 

“So Finder Petros and the others should be safe. He was in his sickbed belowdecks, and probably didn’t find out what happened for hours, or maybe longer. I assume your Finder called base as soon as I was recovered, right?” If the signal on the portable phone would be powerful enough to reach so far. He didn’t want the Old Geezer worrying about him. His grandfather acted like he didn’t care, but the few times he’d been badly injured, he’d seen the worry in the old man’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, Lavi, but I don’t have a Finder with me. Finder Gareth was injured when some Akuma attacked us, half buried in a collapsed building. He broke his left arm and leg, and cracked three ribs. The Doctor insisted he remain ashore, and of course, I insisted too. Komui arranged for Finder Tome to take his place. He was supposed to meet me in Safe Harbor, but we never reached it. We’ll just have to use our wireless golems and call in from Ship’s Haven, if we can. Four currents converge at the mouth of that harbor, and the Captain said they have very turbulent weather because of it, that he’s not sure they even have phones there anymore because of that. He said he hasn’t been there in years, and last he knew, their few phone lines kept getting pulled down by the storms, and lightning would hit the poles, and disrupt the signal.”

Wow. Poor Chief Komui must be jumping up and down, screaming and crying for Lenalee by now. Lavi reached out a hand to comfort and reassure her and drew it back with a hiss of pain.

“You need that sponge bath, some medication, food and some sleep. There’s nothing we can do until the ship docks anyway. You need to regain your strength, so you’re at your fighting peak when we arrive. I don’t expect any trouble in Ship’s Haven, but then, trouble always seems to come to call when we least expect it.”


	4. Lost and Found

Reever rubbed his eyes tiredly, and sipped gingerly from his latest cup of piping hot coffee, wishing for a ridiculous moment that he drank alcohol instead. It wasn’t as if he could imbibe, even if he wanted to, not while on the job, especially in their current state of emergency. Thankfully, he couldn’t remember the last time they’d been out of contact with four of their Exorcists simultaneously, for such a prolonged period, under such grim circumstances. All four were currently listed as missing in action.

“Sir, you need to get some sleep. Why don’t you let one of us monitor communications for a while?” Jeffrey suggested.

He shook his head tiredly. “The only way I was finally able to get Chief Komui to eat and lie down was by promising him I’d personally monitor the lines and let him know the moment there was news. I’ll hit the sack after he’s awake.” Which likely won’t be for a number of hours. The Chief has been up for days.

Reever shuddered, just remembering how disturbing it had been to walk into Komui’s office and actually see the floor, not to mention his towering outbox with a tremendous stack of completed paperwork on a pristine desk. The speed and alacrity with which Komui had accepted the new stack of paperwork and eagerly set to work on it had literally given Reever goosebumps. 

Then again, his own desk was looking just as eerily clean, as was the rest of the Science Division. No one could concentrate well enough to conduct research. He and everyone else had just kept reading the same passages over and over again, until they finally acknowledged not a single word had processed.

Reever looked at the map again, the four red pushpins inscribed with silver crosses, indicating an Exorcist, each with one of their missing people’s names, and the single red pushpin marked with a yellow eye, indicating a Finder, and the name “Petros”. The pushpins were normally black with silver, gold or yellow symbols. The red hue indicated their MIA status. The only other red pin on the board at the moment was stuck in the corner, in the center of the compass rose, with a gold cross and General Cross’s name on it, since they had no idea where in the world he might be, though they were relatively certain he was still alive and well.

Damn. Why does it have to be those four? Not that they would want to lose anyone, but they were their four youngest, and each of them held a special place in their hearts. Allen, Lavi and Lenalee were three of the nicest, sweetest, friendliest people Reever had ever met. And Kanda… he was neither nice nor sweet, but everyone knew his gruff exterior concealed a wounded heart, though no one knew exactly what terrible burden of pain the young man carried so stoically. Allen, Lavi and Lenalee had all finally started to work their way under Kanda’s skin, becoming his friends in spite of his protestations. Kanda would be devastated if something happened to any of them.

The phone rang, and Reever dove to intercept it, snatching it off the cradle before the first ring finished. “Headquarters, Section Leader Reever speaking,” he announced, and then held his breath, hoping it was news about one or more of the missing four. 

Everyone around him had stilled as well, and they were all staring at him, some crossing their fingers, others praying or holding their crosses or rosary beads, while others still were motionless.

“This is Finder Petros. I need to speak with Chief Komui,” the man said, the leaden tone of his voice sending a chill through Reever, when otherwise he would be ecstatic to hear from the missing man.

“Are you injured, or in danger?” Reever asked, and the tension in the room spiked.

“No. I was violently seasick, but now that the storm’s over and I’m finally off that cursed ship, I’ve been able to recover enough to call. I need to report to the Chief,” the man reiterated stubbornly, a wealth of weariness in his voice, rather than urgency, confirming Reever’s fears.

“Chief Komui is currently asleep, for the first time in days. We have a number of missing people, until this moment, you included. I promised to wake him, and I will, but I need to know what you’re going to tell him before I do, Finder Petros.” He spoke the man’s name for the sake of those listening. “Bookman is here as well, and it sounds like he should hear what happened. Are you reporting Exorcist Lavi as killed in action?” he asked, hoping it wasn’t true.

“I… no…” Petros said, and Reever felt a moment of false hope, until the bitterness in the man’s voice hit home. “He… Exorcist Lavi was swept overboard, during the storm. He’s… he drowned. He didn’t die fighting Akuma, or trying to save anyone, except himself. His death was completely stupid and pointless and useless.” 

The pain in the man’s voice hurt almost as much as the news about Lavi. The young man was universally well-liked, funny and mischievous, and one of the most powerful Exorcists the order had ever seen. That both he and his Innocence were lost was a devastating blow to the Order, but it was also heartbreaking. 

“No. Not pointless. He was trying to help keep the ship afloat. I… I won’t say it that way to Chief Komui, I promise, but I have to be the one to tell him. I was Exorcist Lavi’s Finder. It’s my final duty to him. My final duty, period. I’m done with the Order. I’m sorry, but I just can’t do this anymore. I’ve seen too many friends die, Finders die, but this, failing my Exorcist so completely… Please wake the Chief, and summon Bookman.” Petros sounded more than exhausted: he sounded broken. 

Damn it. We have to find out his location, and notify the other Finders in the area. He might be suicidal. “Jeffrey, take the line. Find out Petros’s location, while I wake the Chief. Douglas, locate Bookman. He’s probably in the Library. Tell him to come to the Communications Room. The rest of you, clear out of here. I’ll let you know what’s going on after the Chief speaks to Finder Petros,” he said, in way of apology.

Reever headed to the Chief’s room. He knocked several times, without answer, and finally went in. The room was still as Spartan and surprisingly clean as when Reever had walked the Chief to his room half a day earlier, to see that he rested. He had realized then that the Chief spent little time in his room. His office was his true home. 

Komui was lying on his bed, looking remarkably young and vulnerable, curled into a fetal position, his arms wrapped possessively and protectively around something.

When he shook the Chief awake, and he uncurled, Reever saw it was a framed picture of Lenalee, smiling.

“Lenalee?” Komui asked, both hope and worry in his voice, which was thick with sleep, the circles under his bleary and still bloodshot eyes pronounced.

“No sir. Finder Petros, Lavi’s Finder. I promised you I’d wake you, and in any case, he was adamant he tell you his news himself,” Reever said. “I’ve sent someone to bring Bookman. And sir, you should know that Finder Petros plans to leave the Order.”

Komui’s eyes widened at the unspoken implication of Lavi’s death, and then he nodded grimly, placing the picture of Lenalee on the nightstand beside his bed. He ran his fingers through his tousled and messy hair once, in lieu of combing it, and donned his cap. He was still dressed in his clothes, save for his boots, which he pulled on. “I’m ready. Thank you for keeping your promise.”

Reever nodded, amazed how calm the Chief sounded. At times, when things went well, he was silly to the point of childishness or insanity, but completely firm and businesslike when things fell apart.

Komui and Bookman reached the Communications Room at the same time. Komui remained standing, and accepted the receiver from Jeffrey, who handed a connected receiver to Bookman.

0 0 0

“Finder Petros? I understand you wished to speak with me? Bookman is on the line as well,” Komui added. He listened as the man told him the grim news about Lavi’s death, and then the events leading up to it, including his own illness and the storm. Finder Petros hadn’t even known Lavi was lost until after the ship docked safely in New Hope, hundreds of kilometers from their original destination and at least a hundred from where Lavi had been swept overboard. Lavi’s wireless golem and travel bag were with Petros, but his Hammer had been lost along with him.

Komui thanked the man for his service and urged him to reconsider his decision to leave the Order, assuring him Lavi’s death wasn’t his fault, before the man broke the call.

“Bookman, I want to tell you how sorry I am that this happened,” Komui said.

The old man snorted. “Why are you wasting my time with this foolishness? Lavi’s not dead. A little bath isn’t enough to kill my grandson.”

Komui was taken aback. He hadn’t expected complete denial from Bookman. “I know you…” he began, but Bookman cut him off.

“You know nothing. Children these days, thinking they have all the answers, jumping so quickly to the wrong conclusions. Speak to me once Lavi reports in. I have work to do,” the man said dismissively, leaving abruptly, while Komui stood there, speechless.

Reever removed the red pin with Lavi’s name from the board. “Should I still arrange for a memorial service for him, for the men, sir?”

“No. Not yet. Let’s give Bookman time to come to terms with it.” And it would be less terrible if they held a single joint service for all the missing, if and when it became necessary. He still hoped some of the other ships might reach port, with a happier outcome. Lenalee.

0 0 0

By the time the Reliable docked at Ship’s Haven three days after rescuing him, Lavi had almost completely recovered. He was dressed in borrowed sailor clothes and boots, and his black coat and green bandana, with gloves over his bandaged hands, looking like a pirate, his eye patch only adding to the misimpression. But he was alive, and relatively well, back on solid ground, or at least the wooden dock, and his Hammer strapped once again to his thigh, where it belonged. He and Lenalee were on their way to the shops in the Market, to buy him some new clothes and boots, so he could return the things he’d borrowed.

The harbor was packed with all manner and size of ships, flags from all over the world flying proudly. The docks were just as crowded, dozens of races and nationalities represented, from the look and sound of the sailors. Lenalee was one of the few women on the dock, and was receiving a lot of unwelcome attention. Lavi stayed protectively at her side. Not that she needed protecting, of course; she could take care of herself. But still, these were rough-looking men.

Lavi kept an ear out for trouble, and for gossip. If there were Finders or other Exorcists in port, they’d certainly hear about it when they saw his coat. But though he got a few looks, he was under the impression they might have been avarice, because of the silver star over his heart.

Two of the roughest, slimiest looking men he’d seen appeared oblivious to his presence. Each was holding a leather strap of a large ship’s trunk they were lugging between them, and they were speaking to one another intently, likely about nothing good. He strained to hear, and he could see Lenalee doing the same. 

“An’ ‘ere I fought the white-haired little freak would net us more coin than that little girl we sold them! I mean, e’s somefin’ special ‘e is. Unique like. Who ever seen a pretty young boy wif hair the color of an old man? But those stupid Chinamen fink e’s a ghost or witch or somefin’, cause o’ that and those red eyes o’ ‘is,” the tall, bald man scoffed to the short greasy haired one, as they headed past them.

Lavi and Lenalee turned toward one another. “Allen!” they mouthed simultaneously. 

Allen’s eyes were normally grey. If these men saw his cursed eye turn red, that meant there must be Akuma somewhere in the city, but they’d worry about that after they rescued Allen. They held back, watching carefully so as not to lose sight of the men. 

“I’ll try to find out which ship the little girl they mentioned is on. I speak Mandarin, and my people respect the Order. I should be able to recover her, but I’ll buy her from them if I have to. You follow them and rescue Allen,” Lenalee quietly urged.

“Got it. Be careful, and good luck,” Lavi said.

“You too,” she said, and then Lavi headed out after the men. 

He’d apprehend and interrogate them only as a last resort. Men like this were very resistant to questioning, and their cohorts might kill Allen, if these men failed to appear when expected. It would be far quicker and safer to just follow them to where they were holding Allen. 

How did they manage to capture Allen? He’s a lot tougher than he looks. Was he injured, battling Akuma? Or seasick from the storm, and too weak to fight?

“There’s them brofels on the east end o’ the City. Maybe we can sell ‘im there. Pretty as ’e is, I bet they’d find a use for ‘im. Affer all, ‘e got a mouf on ‘im, don’t ‘e? Don’t matter wot ‘e’s got downstairs, long as ‘ere’s someplace to stick yer John Thomas,” the shorter man said, and the other man laughed.

“W’y di’n’t we fink ‘o that afore we lugged ‘im all the way ‘ere? I say we test ‘im out, afore we sell ‘im, ta make up for all the extra work ‘e’s caused us,” the taller man agreed. 

Lavi gritted his teeth, fuming at the thought of either of these pigs touching Allen and then his eyes widened as what they said sank in. Allen is in the trunk!

It was pathetically easy to knock both men out, which made Lavi worry all the more about the condition Allen must be in, to have been captured by these men. He hoped they hadn’t injured Allen too severely when capturing him. Although they probably would have tried to harm him as little as possible, as bruises would likely have lowered the price they could get for him.

“Allen, it’s Lavi! You’re safe now,” Lavi said confidently, hoping Allen was conscious to hear, as he undid the buckles and heaved open the lid. He stared in consternation at the teary-eyed stranger looking up at him, his mouth taped, and hands and feet bound in rope. “You’re not Allen,” Lavi said stupidly.

The boy was definitely as pretty as Allen, with hair just as white, though the tips of it were lavender, and he had two red eyes, not just one. He also looked like he was maybe ten or twelve years old at the most, which made Lavi’s fury at those men intensify. The boy let out a whimper and cowered back in the trunk, and Lavi realized his anger was frightening him.

“Hey, no, it’s OK. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s just, I heard them talking about you and thought you were a friend of mine, but you’re even younger than he is, and I just wish I’d hit them harder,” Lavi explained, as he began working at the boy’s ropes, watching to make sure no one intervened, but the others on the dock gave him a wide berth.

“My name is Lavi. I’m going to see you get safely home, back to your family. I’m sort of like a policeman,” Lavi explained. “Drat, they tied this really tight. I’m going to have to cut these ropes off you. Hold really still, OK? I don’t want to cut you by mistake,” he said, as he pulled out the knife one of the sailors had lent him, for added protection on the docks, and cut the rope. “I’m afraid pulling off the tape is going to hurt. I’m going to do it really fast, to get it over quickly OK? I’m sorry, but it’s the only way.”

The boy nodded, thankfully no longer looking afraid of him. 

Lavi grabbed the end of the tape and yanked. 

The boy gasped, and his eyes filled with tears again. 

Lavi felt like he’d just kicked a puppy. “I’m sorry! I know that hurt. You’re very brave. What’s your name? Where do you live? Can you show me the way? I’ll protect you, but I’ve never been here before. Or we can find a policeman from here to help you,” Lavi said.

The boy grabbed his hand, anxiously, and then, to Lavi’s surprise, he smiled in wonder. 

“You’re warm! I want to stay with you. I’m Nai. Please take me back to the toy store.”

“The toy store? Don’t you want to go home?” Lavi asked, confused.

Nai shook his head. “Yogi’s at the toy store. He was taking too long buying presents for all the orphans and it was getting late, so I left to get Gareki’s present. He’ll be worried about me!” the boy said intently.

“Hey! You there! Let go of the boy and put your hands in the air,” a stern voice said from in front of Lavi.

Lavi looked up and ruefully realized two policemen were confronting him.

“No, wait! Lavi-kun rescued me! Those are the bad men!” Nai explained urgently, pointing to the two others.

Fortunately, thanks to Nai’s defense, Lavi was able to explain what happened, and Nai corroborated his story. Lavi was relieved that the police would be able to take the men into custody for kidnapping, so he didn’t have to worry about what to do with them. 

Lavi also told them about Lenalee checking the Chinese ships for the little girl they’d overheard the men talking about, and they said they’d assist her in the search. He asked them to tell her he’d meet her back at the Reliable, that their friend Allen wasn’t there after all, but he was taking Nai home. They tried to convince Nai to come with them to the police station, but Nai refused, insisting Lavi would help him get back to Yogi. Lavi asked Nai the name of the toy store, and he asked the policemen how to get there. Then he headed off with Nai. 

After walking a number of blocks with Nai, Lavi looked worriedly at the position of the sun in the sky. He hoped they reached the store before it closed. It was getting late and would be dark soon. When he explained his concerns to Nai, he was relieved he seemed to understand.

“Then take me to Circus. They’re closer to the water. Tsukumo is there, and everyone else, maybe even Gareki now. They can let Yogi know, so he doesn’t worry,” Nai said earnestly.

“Circus? You’re part of a circus troop?” Lavi asked, surprised, although that would certainly explain the white and lavender hair.

“Yes. I left my ID bracelet in the Ship, but it’s actually not mine anyway. It’s Karoku’s,” Nai explained. 

The kid was really sweet, but Lavi didn’t understand half of what he was saying.

“So are Yogi, Gareki, Karoku and Tsukumo your brothers and sister or cousins?” Lavi guessed.

“No. Karoku is sort of like my father. He made me. Gareki’s parents sold him. But Captain Hirato said Gareki and I are children of Ship Two now, and it’s our home. Yogi and Tsukumo watch over us. But Gareki said only stinking animals like me need babysitters, that he can take care of himself,” Nai said brightly.

“Gareki called you a stinking animal? He sounds like a real jerk. I hope your foster father and those other people treat you better than that. Are they mean to you too?” Lavi asked, concerned.

“No, of course not! They’re wonderful! Gareki is too. He’s very warm now, like you, only he’s still growly a lot because he doesn’t like people knowing he’s so nice inside. I think it’s because there are so many bad people in the world, like Kafka, and they hurt nice people, so he needs to show how tough he is. Especially since he’s not very powerful,” Nai explained.

“Some people are nice,” Lavi admitted, though he’d not thought so until he met Allen and he showed him that people were more than just potential future Akuma vessels. “But there are a lot of bad people,” he agreed. Like the Millenium Earl and those who work for him.

Nai nodded. “Kafka is very bad. They make monsters. Varuga.”

Lavi stopped walking. “Monsters? You mean Akuma? Like big, hideous balloons, with people’s faces, with black stars on their foreheads?”

Nai’s eyes widened, and he nodded. “Those are the new type of Varuga we found here. I heard Dr. Akari yelling at Captain Hirato about the people who died, because the black stars made them turn to dust.” Nai shivered and his eyes welled with tears. “Dr. Akari said Captain Hirato could have turned to dust too, protecting Gareki, and they were both lucky that Gareki only sprained his wrist when Captain Hirato pushed him safe.”

“Your friends shouldn’t try to fight them. Akuma are impossible for people with normal weapons to kill. Only Exorcists like me and my friend are strong enough to destroy them,” Lavi chastised.

“But it’s Circus’s job to fight the Varuga. And everyone is very powerful, with special weapons. Yogi-kun uses his thorn swords and Dornen Kiste and Captain Hirato uses the Banshees in his hat. Everyone but Gareki has special weapons, and he’s going to school, so he can become Combat Personnel for Ship Two!” Nai argued.

“I thought you said your friends were circus performers? You’re making it sound like they’re special soldiers, like Exorcists. Like me,” Lavi said, confused.

Nai nodded eagerly. “Yes! Now you understand. Everyone fights, except for the Research Team, like Dr. Akari, but he heals people when they’re wounded or sick, so he’s important too. And I’m special too, only I’m not really sure why, other than I’m one of the Children of Ship Two. I know it’s an important job, because Gareki is one too, and he’s really special,” Nai said, worship in his eyes.

“It sounds like you really like Gareki, even though he calls you bad names,” Lavi said worriedly.

“Of course! He’s the one who rescued me when I was chained up and was going to be eaten by the bad lady who was really a Varuga. I didn’t even know about Varuga then,” Nai confided.

Maybe Gareki was like Yu, trying to hide how much he cared, by calling the kid names, the way Yu called Allen Bean Sprout, when he knew Allen hated that. Lavi smirked. Or the way he called Yu by his first name, instead of Kanda, because it annoyed him. Or the way he called Bookman all kinds of things – Gramps, Old Geezer, or Panda – depending upon how annoying he was being, he realized ruefully.

“I’ve never heard about Circus. Why don’t you tell me more about them?” Lavi suggested.

“Sure!” Nai said happily. He happily began nattering on about his wonderful friends. 

Lavi snorted silently. If Circus was some sort of top secret organization, this kid was a walking, talking security risk to them.


	5. Once They Were Children

Allen ate ravenously and then hurried back upstairs, with a bowl of soup and some bread and tea for Kanda, though he wasn’t eager at all to see him. He’d heard some disturbing news while he’d been eating. Apparently, all sorts of tragedies and fantastical events had been occurring in Ship’s Haven.

He hesitated at the door. The last thing he wanted right now was to see Kanda naked again, either during or after his bath. He bemoaned not being able to take one himself, but they shouldn’t spare the time. Instead, he’d quickly use the pitcher and basin on the washstand, and then change. In fact, he’d better do that before telling Kanda what had happened. Otherwise, knowing Kanda, he’d leave without him, and he didn’t think there was any immediate danger. At least, he hoped there wasn’t. But they needed to investigate the orphanage and make sure none of the new children there were Akuma.

He knocked. “Kanda, it’s me. I’m coming in,” he announced, before entering. To his relief, Kanda was just finishing dressing. His long hair was lying flat against his back, until it dried, instead of confined in its usual ponytails. He looked a lot different with it down like that, less severe, even a little bit effeminate. Allen bet from the back, people might easily mistake him for a girl, slender as he was.

“You ate more quickly than I expected. Was the food that bad?” Kanda asked, looking mistrustfully at the tray he was carrying.

“No, not at all! It was amazing. I wish I hadn’t been quite so hungry, so I could do it justice,” Allen said truthfully. He’d regained his appetite the second he’d smelled the wonderful aromas downstairs. “I brought you some soup and bread, just like you wanted, and some tea, too, so you could eat while I wash up. After we’re both done, we need to go out. I’m not telling you why or where, until you eat. You won’t do either of us any good if you end up lightheaded from hunger,” Allen insisted firmly, as he set the tray down, and then headed for the washstand.

He stripped out of his clothes quickly, ignoring the fact Kanda might be watching. He hated having his shirt off in front of Kanda, and the fact that he was literally bare ass naked made him all the more self conscious. He wished they’d strung up a blanket, the way he and Lenalee did when they shared a room, so he could have washed and dressed behind it. He looked like such a little boy, compared to the other Exorcists.

Fortunately, Kanda was silent, probably because he was too busy eating. Allen breathed a sigh of relief when he was back in his familiar clothes. It had felt weird, wearing something else. When he turned, he realized Kanda was staring at him. Which meant he’d probably been watching the whole time. The bread was gone, and Allen assumed the bowl was likely empty.

“What did you find out?” Kanda demanded.

At least he didn’t accuse him of wasting time washing and changing. Allen scratched his head self-consciously, wishing he’d had the chance to wash his hair, which was still crusted in salt. “A lot’s been happening here. There were Akuma here in town a couple of days ago. There was a big battle against them, but it wasn’t fought by the Black Order or even local law enforcement, police or soldiers. Instead, some other foreign warrior group called Circus fought them and destroyed them.

“There was also a fire in a church. Someone locked the doors, so everyone inside would die. Except, the children were in the basement, in Sunday School, and they got away, through the backyard, the cemetery. But they listened and watched their parents all burn to death. Even if those other Akuma were all destroyed, somehow, if Circus had weapons able to do that, that doesn’t mean that some of those new orphans won’t be targeted by the Millennium Earl. I’m sure he was the one who arranged that fire, so he could make more Akuma from those grieving children. We need to check out that orphanage.

“The people in that group Circus are apparently actual entertainers. They’re putting on a circus show for the city. The people I spoke to said they’re doing it to apologize to the citizens for scaring them so badly, when they fought. I thought they might recruit some local city-folk to help them. After we check out the orphanage, I figured I could try to get work as a performer at the circus, to find out who those people are, and if they’re a threat to the city, or the Order. They might secretly be working for the Millennium Earl, just part of one of his schemes, and maybe that other battle was even staged. I don’t know what to think. I doubt you can juggle or know any of the other circus skills I do, but you could probably get a job as a knife thrower or acrobat or something, so you could investigate with me, if you wanted to.” It was quite possible Kanda would just see it as a waste of time.

But Kanda nodded wordlessly, pulling on his coat. Allen was relieved he apparently approved of his plan. While he was downstairs eating, Allen had asked Marlene where the orphanage was, telling her he was an orphan, too, and he wanted to donate some coin to them, and she gave him directions to get there.

When they went back downstairs, now that they were both dressed in their distinctive coats, they attracted a lot of attention. Allen was glad to get out of the crowded inn.

The streets were nearly as crowded, and they got more than a few curious looks. When they were only a few blocks from the inn, two boys ran up to them. Kanda was instantly wary, but Allen shook his head. They hadn’t triggered his left eye. These children, at least, weren’t Akuma.

“Hey, you’re part of Circus, aren’t you? Are you going to fight more monsters?” the blond haired one with blue eyes asked Allen.

“Can I see your sword? Can you swallow it! My dad said he saw that once, a man swallow a sword,” the taller, dark haired, brown eyed boy asked.

“We’re not part of Circus. We’re soldiers, from a different city. I’m sorry, but we have some important work to do,” Allen explained, as Kanda glared at the boy talking to him, as if wishing him gone would make him vanish.

Kanda actually growled as four other boys came running up to them, but he also visibly tensed.

“They’re not either,” Allen said quickly. The last thing he wanted was Kanda drawing his sword against the boys, endangering them, and getting them into trouble.

The boys kept asking questions and pestering them for a number of blocks, before they were finally put off by Kanda’s coldness and silence.

Allen was relieved when they reached the orphanage. It was in the middle of a block of residences, a large, brightly painted house, with flowers all around the front yard, and swings hanging from the tree branches. It looked like a wonderful home for the orphans.

He was worried some of the children might already be Akuma. “Let me do the talking. I’m going to tell the people who run this place that I was an orphan too, offer them coin as a donation, and ask to meet the children.”

“Just remember, they might all be monsters now. Their caregivers too,” Kanda said grimly.

How could the Millennium Earl target innocent children? But Allen knew he would, without remorse, the way he’d manipulated him, and tricked him into turning Mana into a monster. He couldn’t let these children make the same horrifying mistake he had.

The primary caregivers, Mr. and Mrs. Michaelson, were surprised and pleased to be receiving a donation from such young men. They thanked them politely, and offered them tea, which they declined, before taking them into the backyard to meet the children, at Allen’s request.

Only a third of the children were actually playing in the yard. Many of the rest looked sullen and sad, lonely and withdrawn, some teary-eyed, sitting on the laps of older children, who were trying to cheer them up or get them to play.

Allen scanned their faces and felt his heart clench when his eye activated, when he looked at a cute little girl in a pink dress. He could see the spirit of the girl’s mother, trapped and crying in anguish. And beside her a little boy, his father screaming and wailing. And another little boy and girl who were Akuma too.

Allen quietly pointed out the four to Kanda by describing them to him, not drawing attention to them that they might notice, but the four turned to face them anyway, apparently realizing they had been discovered, or just knowing they were enemies, from seeing their coats.

The moment Allen confirmed which four were Akuma and they turned to face them, Kanda drew his sword. Four dozen terrified orphans watched him head for them, his expression deadly. “Kanda, you can’t!” Allen protested, horrified, interposing himself between the Akuma and Kanda.

“Out of my way, Bean Sprout,” Kanda demanded. “You saw them yourself. Those four aren’t children anymore. They’re monsters in need of slaying.” There was neither pity nor compassion in his icy voice, just ruthless, unwavering intent, as he moved to dodge around Allen, completely oblivious to the horrified and terrified looks of the true children all around them.

Allen couldn’t let Kanda destroy the Akuma in front of the children and the people who cared for them, especially as they had yet to assume their monstrous forms. “Wait!” he cried desperately, as his anti-Akuma weapon hand and arm extended, wrapping around Kanda and restraining him.

Kanda cursed as the four Akuma children took advantage by bolting out the back gate and then ran in four opposite directions, shrieking and yelling simultaneously. “Monsters! Murderers! Kidnappers! Help! Police!”

The other children, screaming and crying in fright took up the desperate calls for help as they scattered out the back gate and others ran into the house, some of them slamming into and even trampling one another, as they panicked.

“Idiot! This is your fault! They’re getting away!” Kanda yelled, infuriated, running after the largest of their four targets, with callous disregard for the terrified children he dodged around and even leapt over.

 Allen raced after Kanda as the horrified adults ran to console and tend to the sobbing children. Allen was both relieved and concerned to see that within a few blocks, three of the four Akuma regrouped, and stayed relatively close together, at least for the moment, making it easier to pursue them. They’d have to worry about finding the fourth one again after they destroyed these three.

Allen silently chastised himself, as he trailed behind Kanda. _He’s right. I’m so stupid! Those poor children were still traumatized, seeing my arm and Kanda’s sword, but now the Akuma might get away._

He listened in frustration as the Akuma’s artful screams for help gradually faded, as they and Kanda pulled too far ahead of him. Even more troubling were the shrill notes of police whistles and increasingly loud shouts as officers converged on the sounds of chaos. Allen tried to run faster, but he completely lost sight of them, as they rounded a corner two blocks ahead of him.

“Police, freeze! Drop your weapon! Hands over your head or we’ll shoot!”

Allen’s heart stopped when he heard the harsh challenge. “Kanda! You have to stop!” he yelled, but his voice was little more than a throaty gasp and moments later he heard the sounds of gunfire.

“No! Don’t! Please!” Allen begged, panicked tears welling in his eyes and streaming down his face. _They can’t shoot  Kanda!_

When he finally rounded the corner, it was to a scene of chaos. Three police officers were on the ground, and none of the three left standing were currently armed, half a dozen guns and helmets scattered about them like fallen leaves. As he watched, Kanda kicked one officer in the back of the knee, knocking him to the ground, and then he hit him in the head with the hilt of his sword. He dropped like a stone.

“Bastard!” one of the remaining officers yelled, as the two still standing simultaneously lunged.

Allen moved to tackle the one behind Kanda, while Kanda fought the other, but from the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of pink energy.

“Duck!” Allen yelled, changing targets, intent on tackling Kanda instead, but Kanda darted to the side before Allen could knock him to the ground. Instead, Allen turned his dive into a roll across the cobblestone street. As Kanda darted in the opposite direction, a volley of additional beams slammed into the building directly behind where Kanda had been standing. The two officers who had still been conscious and attacking Kanda were incinerated in the beams, as the building behind them exploded in a shower of masonry, to Allen’s horror, burying Kanda and the other, unconscious officers.

“Kanda!” Allen yelled running to the towering pile of rubble, coughing as his lungs, already aching from the chase, filled with pulverized brick and stone from the fallen building. The Akuma loomed overhead to finish them both off, and Allen struck out, slicing it in half with his monstrous arm. It exploded, freeing the soul of the mother trapped within.

Allen began yanking large chunks of stone and splintered oak beams away, using his weapon hand as a rescue tool, in a frantic effort to save the trapped men. To his relief he found Kanda, pinned but not crushed, filthy, scraped and bloody but alive and even conscious, the bulk of the rubble held off of him from the way the building’s support beams interlocked as they fell.

“Forget us, you idiot! There are three more of them! Do you want more civilians to die? Leave us! Don’t let them get away!” Kanda ordered, as he began struggling to free himself from the remaining rubble still pinning him.

“I won’t,” Allen promised, as his expanded arm yanked more of the crumbled building off Kanda and the officers, careful not to destabilize the lifesaving mass of beams, until he was certain Kanda could free himself. Then he ran, knowing Kanda was right, hating himself for hesitating, for staying with Kanda when he should have continued the chase, but conversely, for not staying with him and the police and helping them further.

Allen pounded down the street, scanning frantically for his quarry, relieved when he caught sight of two of the Akuma, still in child form, who appeared to be arguing about something. When they saw him, they screamed, “Demon! Monster! Help us!” grinning in malicious glee at him, as they turned and ran.

“I probably do look like a monster, with my eye and arm, like a madman, chasing after two helpless children.” Too late Allen realized the two had lured him into a trap, as the third remaining Akuma rose from the alley, its shadow alone giving him a crucial split second warning, just enough time to spin and block the beam attack with his extended weapon arm, his fingers arcing into claws and raking downwards towards the Akuma. He felt a moment’s triumph as he tore it in two, freeing the tormented soul of the father trapped within. Then he ran after the two remaining Akuma.

_Why hasn’t Kanda caught up to me? He’s a lot faster than I am. Is he still trapped? Is he hurt? He didn’t actually get hit by any of the bullets, did he? He always pretends to be fine, even when he’s almost dying._ Just the thought of Kanda being badly injured almost had him running back the way he’d come.

_What if more police come and think he’s the one who killed those two? Were any of the others dead too now?_ He was certain Kanda hadn’t killed any of them. If he’d used his sword blade instead of just the hilt, he could have killed all of them easily.

His steps faltered, but then he pushed on, darting across another street, ignoring the babble of voices, the startled and fearful civilians, hating how his inhuman eye and freakish arm branded him a monster in their eyes, his dust-coated black Exorcist’s coat flapping behind him as he ran into an narrow side street.

“Nai-chan!” he heard a distinctly melodic stranger’s voice call out from down the street he crossed, as he headed into an alley and finally caught up to his quarry.


	6. Swords and Thorns

Yogi hurried down the street, looking anxiously for Nai. He’d left the mountain of presents back at the toy store. Captain Hirato was going to yell at him if they were late for the performance, but he certainly couldn’t head to the bigtop without his little friend.

_I can’t believe Nai left the store without me!_ Now that the Varuga had been defeated, the city was far safer, but there were still bad men in the world, some of them nearly as monstrous as the Varuga. Gareki would never forgive him if he left Nai alone in a strange city. Not that he ever would. Just the thought of anyone harming the sweet Niji made Yogi’s stomach clench and his blood boil.

As he felt the unusually sharp flare of anger, his hand went instinctively to his cheek, to his essential medicinal patch, to ensure it was still secure. The last thing he needed was for his allergy to act up. He was relieved to feel it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d changed it, and sometimes the adhesive failed, when he left one on too long. He swallowed nervously. Or the medicine grew too weak to work effectively.

He bit his lip and his brow creased in concentration. _When **was** the last time I changed my patch?_ He’d forgotten in the morning; there’d been too much going on. _But I changed it yesterday morning, didn’t I?_ He honestly couldn’t remember.

Things had gotten pretty intense the past few days. There had been a disturbing number of Varuga in the area, of a distinctively odd type: they disguised themselves with terrifying effectiveness as humans, and then, when their true natures manifested, they swelled to the size and shape of balloons, sporting hideous mockeries of human faces in torment, with black stars on their foreheads.

Yogi shivered, just thinking about those odd Varuga. They’d nearly killed Gareki. If Captain Hirato hadn’t pushed him out of the way of that bright pink beam, even if not immediately killed by it, Gareki would have turned to dust in a matter of moments. The thought of losing Gareki like that, that even Dr. Akari would have been powerless to save him, was terrifying.

Those new Varuga had been remarkably hard to destroy, too. Yogi just hoped they had found all of them. They must have, otherwise Captain Hirato wouldn’t have been putting on the performance, right? Unless he was doing so this time to try to draw more of the strange Varuga out. They seemed to thrive in crowds, where they could cause the maximum number of civilian casualties.

He gritted his teeth, remembering the bodies they’d help dig out of the wreckage of the shattered houses. He shuddered to think how much worse it would have been, had they not arrived when they did. There had been a heartbreaking number of new children entering the orphanage, nearly a dozen in the single week they’d been here, and they’d heard there had been close to two dozen others after a horrific church fire only the day before they arrived. He wondered how many lives could have been saved, if they’d arrived just a single day sooner. If they hadn’t been picking up some new medicines in Germany for Dr. Akari.

He swallowed guiltily. Yogi had a sinking feeling that medicine might have been for him, the experimental new patch Dr. Akari had given him, something far more potent than his everyday patch, to be used only in case of medical emergency. The Doctor had insisted on taping one of the new patches to the inside of his pink leather bracelet. Yogi hadn’t wanted to take off the precious bracelet Gareki had won for him, or to let Akari touch it, until finally the exasperated Doctor had handed him the patch to affix himself, while he watched.

Yogi had been shocked and thrilled to see that there was a picture of Gareki on the wrapper. Then he hadn’t wanted to hide it away, on the inner part of the strap, until Akari commented that Gareki might think it was creepy if he put it where it could show. It sounded exactly like something Gareki would say, just before he hit him, not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to show he was annoyed. He wondered if there was a picture of Gareki on the patch, too. He bit his lip. He didn’t think this was an emergency – after all, he felt fine – but maybe he should open it and put the new one on, just to be safe?

Yogi’s thoughts were interrupted when he saw a short figure emerge from a side street and dart through the crowded intersection ahead. Yogi couldn’t see much at all, with so many people around, but he caught the distinctive, familiar flash of white hair, as the boy swerved to the left.

“Nai-chan!” Yogi called out in relief, but apparently not loud enough for Nai to hear, as he disappeared into the mouth of an alleyway. Yogi sped up and took a deep breath and yelled “ **Nai-chan!** ”, but the name choked on his tongue as a slender, longhaired figure ran pell-mell along the same path Nai had, dodging and weaving, slamming indiscriminately into half a dozen people hard enough to knock them down.

Both furious on their behalf and worried, Yogi started to run towards the alley and Nai, increasing his speed, his eyes widening in panic as the man chasing his friend actually drew a sword as he charged into the same alleyway Nai had darted into only a few moments before. _Nai -chan is in danger!_

Yogi leapt into the air, drawing his own thorn blades, clearing half the block in a single bound, making it all the way to the intersection, just as three rays of bright pink light shot out of the alley, slamming into the building across the street from the alley mouth. _Varuga!_

There was the deafening roar of multiple explosions as three massive holes were blasted into the face of the building, and a thundering avalanche of shattered brick, stone and timber cascaded down onto the cobbled street, crushing a wagon and a team of horses, and narrowly missing a couple that dove out of the way just in time, as dozens of other people screamed and fled.

Yogi’s eyes filled with tears at the thought of the buried horses, but his heart hammered in terror at the knowledge of what those beams could do to the little Niji.

**“NAI-CHAN!”** Yogi yelled in panic as he dove into the alley, his heart racing faster than his feet.

“Help us mister! Don’t let him kill us too!” a little girl in a frilly pink dress sobbed in terror, clinging to a pale, bony little boy who couldn’t have been more than nine years old. The two were shaking wildly, the merciless looking man with the sword only a few feet from them, murder in his eyes as he clambered over the refuse and rubble in the alley to reach them.

Yogi froze as his mind tried to process an even more horrific image: the body of a deathly still petite boy almost completely buried in shattered brick, save for a single too-pale hand and the remnants of the distinctive silver sheen of his hair, the bulk of which was now drenched red with fresh blood.

“Nai-chan?” Yogi whispered soundlessly in horror. _Not… dead? Please not dead, not dead, not like…_

 Yogi roared in rage and grief. In the next instant his own hair shone silver in the shadowed depths of the alley, but he was oblivious to the change: he was no longer Yogi.

0 0 0

Kanda cursed as three dozen whipping thorny vines impossibly erupted out of the crusted cobblestones of the filthy alley floor, writhing around what a moment ago had appeared to be a sword wielding blond haired human, who had entered the alley behind him. He was obviously a Level 2 Akuma, though he still eerily appeared fully human, another one of their damned mimics. But those vines: they were unique and deadly. They lashed and snared as if tentacles, or even individual creatures, with minds of their own.

He fought against the urge to call Allen’s name, not wanting to bring attention to the unconscious, helpless boy, but becoming increasingly desperate to verify that he _was_ only unconscious, not dead. Allen couldn’t be dead, not after surviving months as a newly minted Exorcist. Many didn’t last their first assignment, let alone their first month.

Kanda clearly remembered telling Allen he didn’t need to know his name, because he’d been convinced the Bean Sprout couldn’t possibly survive, that he wasn’t tough enough, strong enough, or callous enough to be one of them. It was one of the first times in a long time he’d misjudged someone so badly. Allen was a brilliant Exorcist, with the potential to become a General someday. If he survived this battle.

Kanda had expected to be trying to explain to yet another police officer why he was attacking two “helpless, innocent” crying children. Instead, he was faced with this fifth Akuma, replacing the one he had just destroyed, but not before it felled Allen as well as the building across the street behind them with its final attack.

Almost suffocating under waves of malevolence radiating from the new threat, Kanda’s sword slashed almost faster than even his own eyes could follow, as he futilely sliced through thick ropey vine after vine, in increasing desperation, as two more grew for every one he cut, until he was panting for breath, his shirt a bloody, shredded ruin, as centimeters long thorns repeatedly and ruthlessly ripped through cloth and skin.

He was horrified to see the two quietly laughing Akuma disguised as children take advantage of his helplessness and lift Allen out of the rubble. He couldn’t let them take him!

**“Let him go!”** Kanda and the stranger roared in bizarre harmony, as the sword wielding Akuma’s attention was drawn from him to Allen.

“We’re only trying to carry him to safet… “ The convincingly lying Akuma disguised as a little girl shrieked in pain mid-word as she was unexpectedly sliced in two by the fifth Akuma, the one controlling the vines.

_What the **hell**? _

The Akuma was destroyed, but not by a weapon powered by Innocence. Did that mean the soul that had been summoned back from the dead by the little girl whose skin it was now wearing was destroyed as well, instead of finally being released from its torment? He couldn’t afford to care. Horrific as the thought was, it was nowhere near as terrible as seeing the spray of blood from that bony spike that had ripped into Allen’s face, gouging out his cursed eye, or seeing him drop like a stone.

“Bastard!” the little boy screamed, his mouth and head expanding to ten times its natural size, revealing rows of shark-like serrated teeth, which bit down, engulfing the newly arrived Akuma’s swordarm, which was suddenly encased in a protective sheath of thorny vines.

_This is my chance!_

Now that the Akuma were fighting one another over their prize, they’d left Allen momentarily unguarded.

Kanda darted past them and snatched up Allen’s lifeless looking body and then he ran back out onto the street. That fifth Level 2 Akuma was stronger than any he’d ever faced before. _Is there something higher than a Level 2? Could it be a Level 3?_ What did it matter what it was called? The Akuma wasn’t important. Allen was. If Allen was still alive, he needed immediate medical attention to stay that way.

His stomach heaved as he saw the bloody gaping ruin of Allen’s left eye. The Akuma had targeted it specifically, apparently briefed by the Millennium Earl on the danger it posed them. What if that bony spike had pierced his brain as well? Allen’s left eye could heal miraculously well and quickly, as his left arm could, but Allen wasn’t like him: the rest of his body was no more resilient than that of any ordinary human. He was all too fragile. Although at the moment, Kanda was hardly in better shape.

Kanda’s lungs sounded like bellows as he breathed deep, gasping breaths, his arms shaking from the strain of carrying Allen, light though he was. He needed a full night’s rest in order to heal from the wounds he’d sustained battling these Akuma. _What if there are more of them, in addition to these children?_ _What if the entire city is infested?_

He couldn’t worry about that now. He had to find somewhere to hide, quickly, where they’d be safe long enough for him to tend to Allen, before he bled to death. He was still warm. He couldn’t be dead.

Finally he saw an alley entirely engulfed in shadow. He instantly felt at home, the moment they were enveloped in darkness. He shifted his right hand just enough to touch Allen’s throat. He fell to his knees, collapsing onto the filthy alley floor, as he felt the faint flutter of Allen’s pulse. He was alive! Furious at himself for even momentarily succumbing to his own injuries, Kanda vainly attempted to stand, but found to his consternation he was unable to rise again, as his head swam and his vision blurred, his wounds taking their toll.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” an eerily childlike voice singsonged, the malevolent tone of it making Kanda shiver, though he tried to convince himself it was just a result of shock or his own blood loss.

“I s-e-e y-o-u!” the taunting voice cried gleefully, as the silver haired Akuma and a swarm of vines filled the mouth of the alley. Dozens of vines shot out like spears, and Kanda couldn’t suppress a scream as he was impaled by five of them, torn away from Allen and nailed to the alley wall. His sword fell from his numb hand, but he didn’t hear it hit the ground, as blackness far darker than the surrounding shadows engulfed him.


	7. Brothers and Other Strangers

Hirato felt a wave of relief as he saw Nai heading for the bigtop, even as he wondered why Tsukitachi was here, instead of aboard Ship One. And why he was wearing a new coat. And was suddenly shorter than he should be.

Hirato’s eyes narrowed and he intercepted the pair, ready for anything. Except what he saw. He froze and stared. _Tsukitachi._ Only it wasn’t. He was younger, his one visible eye green not gold, but he looked enough like his best friend to be his little brother. The thought sent his head spinning, but he skillfully hid his emotions behind a friendly mask.

“Nai, you’re late. Hello. I’m Captain Hirato, of Circus. Thank you for bringing Nai home. And you are?” Hirato prodded the stranger with Tsukitachi’s face.

“Lavi. I’m an Exorcist. Nai tells me you and I have very similar jobs, Captain Hirato. I’ll admit, I’m quite intrigued. I didn’t know there was an organization other than the Black Order fighting Akuma, though I understand you call them Varuga,” the redhead said.

Hirato’s eyes widened. _Akuma! No wonder they were so different, yet deadly! And this boy is an Exorcist?_ And that was the least of it. It was more than just the hair, the features. The tones in his voice were achingly familiar as well. “You’re Marian Cross’s son, aren’t you?” he accused, then silently cursed himself for allowing himself to be that shaken.

Lavi looked shocked, and then his brows knitted. “You know General Cross? Is he here, with you?” he asked, sounding suspicious, angry, surprised and hurt. The kid might be an Exorcist, but he wasn’t at all skilled in hiding his thoughts and emotions.

“No. I wasn’t aware he’d risen to the rank of General in your Order. I haven’t seen him in 19 years,” Hirato said truthfully. Not since before Tsukitatchi’s father and his own were accused of treason, stripped of their respective commands, and sent into exile. At least that was what the official story had been. It had been years later, thanks to some restricted files he hacked, that he had learned the truth about their defection to the Black Order. And it was thanks to his bastard half-brother Tokitatsu, at the risk of his own life, mind and freedom, that Hirato hadn’t been caught for hacking that information and executed, or worse, suffered a memory wipe so complete it would have obliterated his personality and every scrap of knowledge and skill he had ever learned, leaving him with the mind and abilities of an infant, unable to even walk or feed himself, a blank slate, ready to be reprogrammed as the Council’s tool. He fought a shudder and forced the memory down. He needed to keep his wits sharp for this confrontation.

“I understand you’ve been fighting Akuma,” Lavi stated. “I wanted to warn you to stop, to tell you it’s not safe, fighting them untrained and with inferior weapons, but from what Nai tells me, you’re hardly new to this. Still, now that there are two Exorcists in this City, it would be best if you leave the fighting to us,” the young upstart suggested.

Hirato chuckled. He was really quite adorable, actually. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. We’ve already engaged the enemy once, and been victorious. If there are additional foes to face here, we’ll face them.” They might not be Varuga, but their weapons had proved just as deadly to them.

“You can’t. It’s too dangerous for you. Nai told me you already lost some of your people to the Akuma virus,” Lavi argued.

Hirato shrugged. “Casualties are an unfortunate but inevitable outcome of war.”

“I suppose none of the men who turned to dust were your friends, then? Nothing more than cannon fodder, expendable troops, is that it?” Lavi challenged, apparently upset by his cavalier pronouncement.

“We have yet to discover an antidote or inoculation for the virus. Does the Order have a method of combating it successfully?” Hirato asked in sudden hope. If he could give something like that to Akari on a silver platter, maybe the man would finally agree to go to dinner with him. Or at least get some desperately needed sleep.

“No. Some of us are immune to it, but other than those fortunate few, we’re just as vulnerable to it as the civilians we protect,” Lavi admitted.

“Immune? Have you tried to develop a cure from their blood?” Hirato asked excitedly.

Lavi nodded. “Of course. Unfortunately, it hasn’t worked, though the Science Division is still working on both a vaccine and a cure.”

“Perhaps if you would provide us a blood sample and allow us to try?” Hirato proposed.

“We might consider it, but neither Lenalee nor I are immune, and we’re the only two Exorcists here, to our knowledge. Speaking of which, I need to get back to her. But before I go, I’d like to meet Gareki. I’ve heard so much about him, from Nai,” Lavi said, too casually.

It was readily apparent that he hadn’t liked what he heard. What on earth had Nai told him? The little Niji practically worshipped the ground Gareki walked on. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid he’s not here. He’s out looking for you, Nai, and Yogi. Where _is_ Yogi, Nai? He doesn’t appear to be with you,” Hirato belatedly asked.

“He was still at the toy store. We were buying presents for all the new orphans. We would have gone there instead, but Lavi-kun said they would close soon, probably before we got there, so we should come back here.  We need to call Yogi-kun, so he doesn’t worry about me. I didn’t tell him I was going,” Nai admitted guiltily.

“You can call him? You have portable phones and wireless golems too?” Lavi asked, sounding intrigued.

“We have communicators,” Hirato admitted. “I’m sorry, but we’re also really pressed for time, at the moment. We have a performance to put on, that Nai and I have to prepare for. If you’ll excuse us?” he suggested, urging the Exorcist to leave.

“Alright. I’ve got business of my own. But I still want to meet Gareki. I’ll be back,” the young man threatened.

It was remarkable, really, how much he sounded and acted like Tsukitachi, that same confident, arrogant air, and he sensed a devilish streak in him as well, although perhaps he was just projecting the latter onto him.

Once Lavi left, and Hirato was certain he was truly gone, rather than lurking and spying, he turned to  Nai. “Now tell me what happened, Nai,” he urged.

Nai looked hopelessly innocent and apologetic. “I got kidnapped by a bad person I thought was a new friend. I didn’t mean to! But then I got rescued by my real new warm friend, Lavi-kun. It’s my fault Gareki-kun and Yogi-kun aren’t here. I should go out to look for…”

“Absolutely not,” Hirato said firmly. “What do you mean, kidnapped? Who…? Never mind. First, now that we know you’re back safely, they should both head back in. We’ll call them right away and tell them. You come with me. I’m not sure either of them will believe me if they can’t hear your voice. If they don’t answer their communicators for any reason, we’ll leave it to Eva or Tsukumo to find them, if it becomes necessary, but hopefully they’ll report back immediately. And then I want you to tell me everything that happened, including why Yogi let you get kidnapped.”

“Is Yogi in trouble because of me?” Nai asked softly, looking miserable.

“No. Yogi’s in trouble because he was irresponsible. Again,” Hirato said in frustration. He swore that Silver Yogi was the one responsible for times like these, that Yogi’s alternate personality was purposefully undermining Yogi, trying to take permanent control.

Then there was Gareki, who in his infinite wisdom snuck off to look for Nai, not only without his permission, but strictly against his orders. Because the last thing he had needed was to have _three_ missing children in this Varuga… or Akuma… infested city. Technically, of course, at 21, Yogi was an adult, but he acted far more childlike than the 15 year old Gareki. Of course, all of them had been hopeful that they’d taken care of the last of the monsters, but they were far from certain. They’d decided to hold the performance anyway, because the citizens of this city had already seen so much chaos, death and destruction.

“Eva, excellent,” Hirato said, spotting his tall, turquoise haired Lieutenant just outside the tent. “I’ll need your help getting Nai get into his costume.”

“Yogi and Gareki need to get ready, too,” Eva replied, sounding impatient and put upon. Yogi usually helped Nai dress, and Eva was a perfectionist. She hated anything jeopardizing the spectacular effect of their show.

“They’re not here, though I’m sure they’ll be here soon,” Hirato said with a false smile. Unless, of course, Yogi had somehow managed to lose his patch again, or had forgotten to replace it. He only hoped the new patch the good Doctor was developing for him would prove to last longer. Just thinking about Akari made him long to see the man, although the good doctor would likely be more worried about Yogi than he was, and he was becoming pretty anxious.

Eva frowned. “You don’t think Yogi…”

“I’m sure he didn’t. Nai, you go with Eva, alright? Never mind about talking to them now,” he countermanded his previous order.

He entered the mobile Communications Center, intent on speaking to both Yogi and Gareki, but neither was answering his communicator. He was debating going out to look for them, when Tsukumo came in with a problem for him to resolve regarding the show. He’d no sooner solved it than three more cropped up demanding his attention.

By the time he came up for air, and began heading for the mobile Communications Center again, his stomach unexpectedly dropped, as if he’d jumped from the ship and was abruptly forced out of freefall. He’d felt this before, more times than he wished to remember. Whenever he’d had this same foreboding sense before, it had inevitably presaged disaster. Something was wrong, likely horrendously so.

He sprinted for the mobile Communications Center. If Gareki and Yogi didn’t answer immediately this time, he was going to send Tsukumo, Eva and maybe even some of Ship One’s crew out to look for them. _Tch._ As if he’d stop there. He’d definitely be leading the search.

It was both a surprise and an enormous relief, when he entered the mobile Communications Center to hear the sound of Gareki’s voice, until he heard how agitated he sounded, and his words registered.

“… need to send Dr. Akari immediately! I don’t know how he’s even still alive!”

Hirato’s stomach began tying itself into knots, his fears confirmed. “You, call Akari. Pinpoint Gareki’s location, and have him go there immediately. Gareki, it’s Hirato. What are Yogi’s injuries?” Hirato asked, dreading the answer.

“What do you mean Yogi’s… oh. You didn’t hear everything. It’s not Yogi. It’s someone he attacked. He looks like he’s my age, or maybe Yogi’s. I found him in an alley, pinned to a building by some of Yogi’s vines. Impaled by them. He’s not a civilian, he’s some sort of soldier or police officer. He’s in a uniform, but it’s different from the ones they wear here. It’s one I’ve never seen before. It’s a black and silver longcoat, with a silver multi-pointed star over his heart.”

Hirato stiffened. _Another Exorcist of the Black Order?_ Lavi had stated he and that woman Lenalee were the only two in the City. True, their Exorcists traveled across the world as well, but their paths seldom crossed with Circus. The odds that there was a third here, without the other two knowing, was infinitesimal.

_Damn it._ The Council had ordered Hirato and Tsukitachi to never speak of the Exorcists or the Order to anyone of lower rank than a Captain. Gareki was exceptionally bright and insightful. Much like his older brother, in that regard, Hirato thought with a vain smirk. He’d have to be careful what he told Gareki. It wouldn’t be his fault if his baby brother inferred more on his own.

His smile vanished. From what Gareki said, the victim of Yogi’s attack was just a boy, likely a novice. This had quite possibly been his first mission, and he’d had the misfortune to encounter Silver Yogi.

Hirato’s eyes widened and he cursed silently. And likely mistaken him for a Level 2 Akuma, when he saw him rampaging, and had attacked him. Or possibly even unintentionally triggered Yogi’s change, somehow. Regardless of the circumstances of their meeting, or of orders from on high, he couldn’t allow this stranger in their midst to suffer the same fate his own father had. He couldn’t allow his weapon to be lost, or worse, destroyed. He hadn’t spoken to his father since he left, but the Council had not simply allowed two of their former Ship Captains to drop off the map unobserved. The Council had hoped the loss of Mana Walker’s Innocence had meant he would return to them, but instead, he’d begun searching the world endlessly for it. And then he was killed, in a stupid, pointless accident, instead of dying in battle, fighting against Akuma or Varuga.  

“Do you see anything that looks like a weapon near him? It could be anything, even something as subtle as a ball or a pen, or as blatant as a mace or ax,” Hirato asked, carefully masking his anxiousness.

“I don’t see anything that looks remotely like a weapon, but I know he’d been carrying a sword. But what the hell difference does it make, anyway? It’s not like I’m in any danger from him. This guy won’t be fighting any time soon, even if he survives,” Gareki replied.

“Gareki, it’s important. You need to find and secure that sword. Protect it at all costs, but keep it out of sight. If he loses that weapon, if it’s destroyed, he loses his ability to fight his enemies, and they’re just as deadly as the Varuga. You need to…. No, that’s right. You likely won’t be able to touch it. In fact, never mind. I’m not familiar enough with those weapons to know what might happen, but I just remembered it will reject anyone save for the owner. I don’t know how violently it might, whether it would injure you, perhaps fatally, or how it actually repels you. If you find it, don’t try to touch it until Dr. Akari is there.

“That injured man is a member of an elite foreign fighting force similar to Circus, in a number of regards. He’s at the level of one of our top-ranked Combat Personnel. If he was wearing a gold and black coat, he’d be one of their Generals, the equivalent of one of our Ship Captains. I’m only telling you this because if you see another of his organization, you are to surrender both him and his weapon, if you find it, immediately, without question, and perform any instruction he or she gives you, short of treason against Circus, as if it were an order issued by me. You are not to speak to _anyone_ but me and Dr. Akari about this man, not to Nai, or Yogi, when we find him, or to Tsukumo, or even Eva, and especially not to anyone from Ship One.”

Hirato needed to protect Tsukitachi in particular from the knowledge that three of the Order were here, especially that boy Lavi. _Damn it. I can’t believe I didn’t realize the truth before meeting Lavi. I knew something was different, wrong, off about these Varuga, but I never made the connection that they were Akuma. And between us interfering here, with the Order’s business, and injuring or, if we’re extremely unlucky, perhaps even killing one of their Exorcists… The Black Order is not an organization you want angered with you._ “Gareki, how did you manage to find him?”

“I heard two sets of explosions and ran to investigate, figuring if there was trouble, Nai and Yogi were sure to be in the middle of it. Witnesses told me a man matching this soldier’s description chased a white haired boy through the streets, with a drawn sword in his hands. I thought it was Nai he was after, but Gunther told me Nai’s there safely with you, so it must have been Silver Yogi he was chasing, though I can’t imagine him running from anyone. This guy must be one hell of a badass if he had Yogi running. Unless Yogi was just playing with him? Shit, that’s likely, isn’t it? And apparently he was leading him into an ambush. I hate that Yogi really tried to kill him.” There was a pause. “Nai _is_ safely with you, isn’t he? You didn’t just tell Gunther to say that?” Gareki asked suspiciously.

“Nai’s safe. I swear by the Ship he’s with Eva. Keep doing whatever you can for that Exorcist until Dr. Akari arrives.”

“I can’t do a damned thing, other than apply pressure around the two bloodiest wounds, which I’m already doing. I’m afraid moving him at all will kill him, and that if I try to remove the vines, he’ll bleed to death. How long is it going to take for… It’s about time. Do something!” Gareki ordered.

There was a second’s pause. “Hirato, you need to send everyone we’ve got after Yogi, now,” Akari said, sounding both angry and shaken.

“It’s that bad? I was hoping Gareki might have overestimated the damage,” Hirato said, lifting his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose against the migraine beginning to form. He couldn’t afford to get one now, when Akari was too busy to help.

“I’m sure whatever he told you didn’t even begin to do this justice. The damage is extensive. From the position of these vines, this man may well have lost his liver and both his kidneys, and he’ll be lucky if that’s all. In this state, I can’t imagine him surviving transplant surgery. I need to do everything I can to stabilize him immediately. I can’t waste time speaking with you,” Akari said, abruptly cutting the transmission.

_Damn it._ “Cancel the performance. Call Ship One. Code Silver Alert. We need to find Yogi and subdue him immediately. By any means necessary, short of killing him.” _I always feared what would happen the day we didn’t stop Yogi in time and he killed someone. It looks like today’s that day.  
_


	8. Sacrifices

Komui’s office once again looked like a tornado had hit it. He continued to pour over navigation charts and reports of the different storms, calculating dozens of possible altered courses for the missing ships, based upon winds and ocean currents. Finders had spread out from the intended ports, taking ships to the possible alternate ports, further and further from the ships’ original destinations, so far to no avail.

Bleary eyed and desperate, the exhausted Chief began another painstaking set of calculations, using the altered course information Finder Petros had reported about the _Valiant_ to tweak his numbers. Perhaps Lavi’s death would not have been entirely pointless, if his ship’s information might lead them to finding his friends.

Komui was grasping at straws at this point, clinging to his rapidly fading hope, searching for a meaning to any of it. _Why would God waste the lives of so many of His precious Exorcists, who could have served Him in countless future battles?_ He berated himself for his lack of honesty, even within his own mind. _The real question you want to ask Him is, “After all our family has done to serve You, all we’ve already lost in Your name, how could You take Lenalee from me?”_

So far, there was more anguish than hatred against God in his heart, his soul, but he knew that would all too quickly change, unless a miracle occurred. He would once again become mired in bitterness. It would cling like tar, blackening and smothering his soul, squeezing what little light was left in it out. Already his faith was like a wavering candle flame, flickering and sputtering precariously. This was not the first time he’d lost his faith, it had happened once before, but if Lenalee was gone...

Komui shuddered. This time he would be left entirely alone, cold and lost in the dark, with no one to save him. His father was dead, as was his mother. And Uncle Mana, who had been like a second father to him for all too brief a time; both Mana and his father had decided on the term “uncle” to describe both him and Uncle Cross. Marian Cross, who was currently MIA. Missing, but not dead.

The truth, Komui knew, was that Uncle Cross was hiding, unable to face him, after all they had both lost. Komui had never blamed Uncle Cross for his father’s death, or Mana’s loss of both Innocence and status and eventually, his life, but Komui knew Marian blamed himself, for failing to protect the men he loved. His family.

Knowing how much it would hurt seeing it, but perversely needing the pain, Komui unlocked the bottommost drawer of his desk and pulled out the scrapbook. It was hard to believe the pages weren’t brittle and yellowed with age. It seemed a lifetime ago since Mana had died, when it was only a handful of years, though he had left them long before that. Komui traced the words, “Our Family”, etched in silver on the black cover. Exorcist colors, painfully appropriate for a family whose entire life revolved around the Order: lives, deaths, births, and rebirths.

He turned past the opening pages, seeking the picture of the three of them: his father, his mother and him, before Lenalee. There were no pictures of the four of them, after she was born: only of his father, him, and Lenalee. Even now, sixteen years later, the loss of his mother hurt. In the past, that pain had always been balanced by the radiant joy of Lenalee. But now….

Swallowing hard, Komui quickly flipped to the many pictures of Lenalee. The first three years, he was in every single photo with her. In the years after, he was in none, not because he loved her any less, but because he had been the only one left to hold the camera. He felt the tears streaming down his face just in time to jerk his head back, so they didn’t splash on those precious images, frozen in time. He couldn’t lose the pictures too. 

When his mother, a Finder for the Order, was killed protecting his newborn baby sister in the hospital from an Akuma, Komui’s faith in God had been shaken to its core. How could God give him a sister but take away his mother, when she worked and fought in His name, alongside His Exorcists? Komui had hated God more with every tear, and hated the innocent, helpless baby he refused to even look at, for being responsible for taking his mother away. His mother wouldn’t have been there to die, if it wasn’t for the baby.

It wasn’t until he had finally been forced by his desperate father to meet his baby sister that his hatred had transformed into just as passionate a love. Seeing his baby sister’s tiny, precious face for the first time, her grasping hands reaching for him, searching for the mother who was lost to them both, his heart had flooded with a fierce need to protect his sister, in honor of their mother, who had died saving her.

From that moment on, the three of them had become an even more close-knit family, he and his father finding solace in their mutual grief and loss in the smiling face of his sister, who grew to look more and more like her mother every passing day. Komui was the one to take care of his sister, while their father worked in the hospital.

Komui’s father had sworn he would never love another woman, and he had kept his oath. But God works in mysterious ways, and was sometimes merciful, and his father was far too loving a man to spend the rest of his life alone, with only his two beloved children at his side. He never expected he might find love again, but this time in the arms of a man, let alone two. It was an astonishing irony that of all things, a plague of Akuma would be responsible.

Komui’s father, Dr. Chen Lee, had been a wealthy, privileged, well-loved and respected doctor, who had saved countless patients many had thought beyond saving. It was both that reputation and the seemingly isolated incident of an Akuma attack at his hospital months before during which his own wife, along with twelve others had died, that had led the suspicious Order to send two of their newly minted Exorcists to investigate, to ascertain whether he was truly saving his patients, or selling embittered and grief-stricken victims to the Millennium Earl, profiting by his patients’ families’ losses, and likely causing them. They suspected his wife, a Finder for the Order, might have learned of his perfidy and that he’d purposefully silenced her. Mana Walker and Marian Cross had come to question Dr. Lee and those around him, and if justified, to arrest the doctor, or if necessary, kill him.

Seeing their target interact so lovingly with his young son and infant daughter, hearing the respect and admiration for the man in everyone they spoke to, and his love for his wife and grief over her death, it was hard for the Exorcists to believe he might truly be the villain they feared, a traitor to humanity. When nearly a dozen Akuma ambushed the inexperienced Exorcists within the very halls of the hospital they were investigating, they had thought themselves fools, believing he was to blame. It was only when Dr. Lee had risked his own life to save Cross, using his dead wife’s talisman to erect a barrier to shield the new Exorcist, that Cross and Walker belatedly realized Lee wasn’t the villain they feared him to be. In turn, Walker had protected Komui, when he desperately tried to fight alongside his father, nearly dying for it. During the pitched battle, both Exorcists were severely wounded, but they defeated all the Akuma. They subsequently learned one of the nurses in the hospital was the one selling souls to the Earl, and managed to capture her, before succumbing to their injuries.

In treating the wounds of both brave, selfless Exorcists, Dr. Lee was entranced by the love of the two men for one another which had shown so brightly with every action they took, as they battled together in seamless harmony. Day after day, long after his hospital duties were done, Dr. Lee spoke with his special patients, far into the night. The two men were just as enamored with the Doctor and his two children. By the time they were healed enough to return to the Order, the five of them had become a family.

When Komui’s father was killed three years later, it was Uncle Mana and Uncle Cross who had held him as he grieved. But their duties took them away, time and again, and Komui was left to raise his sister primarily by himself. Then, Mana lost his Innocence, and began wandering the world to look for it, leaving a lonely and heartbroken and eventually bitter and resentful Marian trapped in the Order.

Tragically, Mana was killed in a pointless accident, and far worse, he was resurrected as an Akuma by his own foster son, Allen Walker. Marian had never forgiven himself for Mana’s death, but he also took his grief and rage out on the unfortunate foster son who had attempted to resurrect the man he’d loved. Unlike Marian, Komui had never resented or hated Allen Walker for the years he spent with Mana or for succumbing to the Earl’s cruel enticement of his resurrection; instead, Komui pitied Allen, for both his loss of Mana and for Marian’s unreasonable but all too understandable torment of the grieving young boy.

But that was not the extent of their family’s tragedy because of the Order. At the tender age of six, Lenalee was determined to be an Accommodator and taken from him. Komui had thought she’d be taken to the Asian Branch, that he’d at least be able to see her periodically, but had instead been horrified to learn she’d been taken far away, to the European Branch Headquarters. His goal in life became working his way high up enough into the Order’s hierarchy that he could be reunited with her.

That dream had finally come true, when he’d been promoted to Chief of the European Branch three years later. He’d been outraged to learn his little sister had been diagnosed as mentally ill, when it was painfully obvious she was heartsick for him, for her family. He was horrified to hear she was kept strapped down to her bed to keep from escaping the Order, after numerous failed escape attempts. He’d never forget the night he finally saw her again, dull eyed and hopeless, painfully thin, wan, and fragile, the way she cried in his arms when he unstrapped her and promised they’d always be together.

Komui resolutely closed the scrapbook. Drowning in such painful memories of loss and of his former hatred of the Order wasn’t doing himself or Lenalee any good. He had to find her.

Nearly an hour later Komui stared in consternation at the result of his latest calculations: Ship’s Haven. Could all three missing ships have actually truly converged on the single harbor, or had his sleep-deprived brain sabotaged his efforts? Surely one of them would have contacted the Order by now, were they able? None of the missing three had Finders with them, but once they reached shore, they should have been able to use their wireless golems in conjunction with the landlines, the phones within the city, unless they were too badly injured. Or dead. The fear almost paralyzed him, until a second thought, a wild, dangerous surge of hope filled him. Unless something outside of their health was preventing them from calling? Something technological?

Komui began scanning the atlases scattered over the surface of his desk and floor, finally locating the correct one and read it eagerly, blinking and rereading the relevant passage a second time to be certain. There were no phones in Ship’s Haven. Due to converging weather fronts and violent storms, downed phone lines and lightning strikes on phone poles had rendered phones all but useless, and the city had given up the attempt to utilize them.

_Ship’s Haven. They’re in Ship’s Haven._ Komui was certain of it.

Scooping up the charts and atlas, he ran for the Library, to share his news with Bookman. They were going to find their missing children, and bring them home.

0 0 0

Lavi saw the relief in Lenalee’s face when she spotted him. “I’m sorry if I worried you, but I had to take Nai back to his friends. I hope those policemen told you about it.”

“They did, but you’ve been gone a long time. I started to think maybe you weren’t as recovered as we thought, or that you’d run into more trouble than you could handle, though things have thankfully been quiet. We recovered the kidnapped girl, and two others. Those men were lucky the police were with me. I don’t know what I might have done. Fortunately, they and the men who’d bought the children hadn’t harmed them yet. But only because they were far more valuable untouched.”

“You look really upset. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this,” Lavi said, worried about her.

She smiled sheepishly. “It’s not just the children. I suppose it’s silly of me, but I thought we were going to get to see Allen. I really miss him,” she admitted.

Lavi smiled ruefully. “I know what you mean. So do I. Nai’s a really sweet kid, but he’s not Allen, though he reminded me just enough of him to make me miss him all the more.” He was admitting too much. If Gramps was here, he’d scold him for becoming involved, instead of being an impartial observer, as a Bookman in training. He was supposed to remain aloof and apart from the other Exorcists, to not make friends and to record history, not participate in it.

His brooding thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a massive explosion. He and Lenalee looked at one another wordlessly, as Lenalee activated her Dark Boots and Lavi his Hammer, and they headed off at top speed towards the sound of the danger.

They arrived at a scene of carnage and chaos, to the frantic efforts of civilians digging through the rubble of a collapsed building, using nothing but their bare hands. Some of them screamed and cowered when they saw them arrive, Lenalee flying, her boots glowing green with Innocence, and Lavi on his extended Hammer, which he quickly retracted back to travel size. _Was it a gas explosion? I don’t see any Akuma._ _But these people definitely need our help._

As Lavi and Lenalee helped rescue injured victims of the collapse, Lavi listened intently to the witnesses talking about what happened, and he knew Lenalee would be doing the same. As soon as he heard a description of the running white-haired boy, he turned to her. “Allen,” they said simultaneously, Lenalee sounding as worried as he was. This time, they were sure it was their friend, and it sounded like he might be in over his head.

“It’s not like Allen to leave victims behind without helping them,” Lenalee said, confirming his fears.

“I know. We need to find him. But we can’t leave yet,” Lavi said, frustrated and twice as worried as before.

The sound of a series of three additional almost simultaneous explosions which sounded to be less than a dozen blocks away had them both up and running, leaving the civilians to continue the rescue. There would only be more victims if they didn’t stop this at its source, and Lavi had no doubt at all that Akuma would be at the heart of the trouble. The thought that Allen was fighting multiple Akuma of unknown strength on his own worried him.

They reached the second site just in time to see someone at the very end of the street. For a moment, Lavi thought it was Allen, when he saw his silver hair, until he realized the man was too tall. Then his eyes widened in disbelief as he realized the wild-eyed man was actually carrying Allen, who was deathly pale, slumped lifelessly in his arms, his hair drenched red with blood from his ruined left eye.

Heart pounding in fear for Allen, Lavi extended his Hammer handle and swung over to their position, planning to slam both booted feet into the head of the man holding Allen. But dozens of vines somehow shot up from the cobblestones, blocking his attack. Worse, the thorny vines wrapped around him, as agile as snakes, slicing through his pants, boots and flesh, drawing blood as they wound and contracted, yanking so hard he actually couldn’t keep hold of his Hammer. Fortunately, Lenalee’s Dark Boots struck the vines ensnaring his bloody legs, pulverizing the sinuous plants, and he was free.

“Grab Allen and get him out of here!” Lavi ordered, fueled by adrenaline, ignoring the pain from his wounds as he snatched up his weapon and attacked, swinging his Hammer again and again, doing his best to give Lenalee the opening she needed. But more of those freakish tentacle-like vines wound about Lenalee’s legs, yanking her down, out of the air, though fortunately, her Innocence boots protected her from the thorns.

“More toys to play with,” the silver haired monster in front of them said gleefully. “Will you break too easily too, little girl?” he taunted.

“Let her go!” Lavi roared, slamming at the vines with his Hammer, unable to use its greater powers, with both Allen and Lenalee in such close quarters.

Freed thanks to Lavi’s attack, Lenalee rocketed straight up, away from the silver-haired Akuma, which was apparently another one of those human mimics, though it seemed content to maintain the single form, a grossly imperfect copy of Allen.

A moment later, Lenalee tore down from the sky, snatching Allen out of the monster’s arms. He shot a tangle of vines out after her, but Lavi smashed them.

“Get Allen to a doctor!” Lavi ordered.

“But you’re injured!” she argued.

“I’m fine, but Allen might die if you don’t leave now!” Lavi urged.

Lenalee gave him one last concerned look before rocketing away with Allen.

Now that both his friends were clear, Lavi wouldn’t need to hold back. “Firestamp: Hellfire and Ash!” he roared, and an enormous fire snake formed, withering and incinerating the vines all around him, and also the thorn swords the monster drew in his defense.

“Can you melt this so easily?” the silver-haired monster taunted, somehow unsinged by the flame, drawing a horrifyingly familiar sword from its sheath.

“Mugen! How can you have Mugen?” Lavi demanded, shaken. _Yu is here too? He actually lost to this monster, not just a battle, but his Innocence?_

“Its former owner no longer had a need for it,” the monster smirked, holding the blade aloft, by the hilt. “So pretty,” he added.

Lavi assumed he was speaking about Mugen, as he admired the way the image of the flames danced across the metal of the blade.

“So very pretty, with that lean body and beautiful black hair. But so pathetically weak. Will you be as easy to kill, or will you be more fun?”

Lavi froze in shock and horror. _Dead? Yu? No! He can’t be dead!_

“You _will_ be too easy to kill, won’t you?” the monster asked, sounding disappointed, like a petulant child. “You’re too angry to think, to fight, just like that other one was, when he was trying to save his pretty little white-haired friend from me. Though in the end he gave me the gift of such a beautiful scream, I wish I’d taken more time killing him. I would have, if I’d known how well he could scream.”

“Liar! Kanda would never scream!” Lavi accused, protecting his friend’s first name from this twisted monster, refusing to speak it. _He’s lying._ _Yu’s still alive. He has to be. I have to save Mugen without killing this Akuma, find out what he’s done to Yu, where he is. Then I’ll kill this mockery of a man. No, I’ll let Yu do it, to recover his pride, his honor._ _Yu must have been so humiliated, losing his Innocence to this monster._

“Heaven Stamp: Violent Thunder, Whirling Skies!” Lavi yelled, putting all his fury into his attack, instantly drawing every cloud within a hundred kilometers to the sky overhead, creating a dark, towering cumulonimbus storm cloud, a roiling mass of water vapor and electricity. A massive bolt of lightning was instantly drawn to the upraised sword in the monster’s hand, flooding it with thousands of volts of electricity, even as half a dozen others discharged higher in the sky, drawn to some other, unintended target. The monster jerked and spasmed with the blast and then toppled to the ground.

Lavi saw Mugen’s Innocence had actually apparently protected the monster, absorbing much of the destructive power of the blast. The Akuma was unconscious, not dead. Lavi stared in consternation as the silver hair turned blond. He grabbed the Akuma’s shirt and yanked him over, so he was lying face up and paused. His face had completely changed: even unconscious, there was a softness to it, an innocence as palpable as the previous malevolence had been. Shouldn’t it have instead reverted to the form of the monster he was?

He turned his attention to Mugen, relieved to see the blade appeared undamaged, half afraid it would have been melted and destroyed, Innocence or not. It was still gripped tightly in the monster’s hand. Lavi reached for the exposed piece of the hilt and cursed as the Innocence lashed out, slicing his palm, when he touched the hilt. _Damn it!_ Each of their Innocence would repel anyone but their Accommodator, using whatever method of damage the weapon was crafted to inflict. Mugen sliced intruders, while his own Hammer smashed their fingers, without ever physically moving. Kanda’s weapon would kill him, if he persisted. He’d have to let the monster hold Mugen for now.

Lavi cut the pant leg off his captive and tore it into strips, using it to bind the Akuma’s hands behind him and then to his ankles, hogtying him, though the sword was still in his hand. He needed to interrogate this Akuma, get him to speak somehow. Yu couldn’t already be dead, but he might be severely wounded, something even he might not be able to recover from. He could be anywhere in the City, inside any one of the hundreds of buildings. There wasn’t time to search them all. They had to find Yu, before it was too late!

Lavi grabbed firm hold of the Akuma and extended his Hammer, riding the end of the handle, heading for one of the mountainsides beyond the outskirts of the city, where there would be no civilians the monster could injure, if he tried to break free while he interrogated him, and they battled again. Unexpectedly, a wave of dizziness washed over Lavi, and he almost lost his grip on Hammer. He set down abruptly in a clearing, short of his goal, his legs crumpling under him as he retracted Hammer.

He inspected his traitorous legs and realized they were both slick with blood. _Damn it!_ He was injured worse than he had realized. His right leg wasn’t too bad, but a deep wound on his left calf was welling dark blood, likely from a damaged vein.

Lavi took off his bandana and used it and Hammer to fashion a tourniquet, his hands shaking from shock and the tail end of the adrenaline spike he’d been riding, as he tightened it. Then he used the sailor’s knife to cut strips off the end of his shirt, and roughly bandaged the rest of his wounds, his vision blurring and grip weakening further with every strip he applied, until he slumped over after tying off the last, no longer able to sit upright.

_Stay awake! Yu needs you! You… can’t… let…Yu… d…._


	9. Heaven's Wrath

The shuttle landed on Ship Two and Akari’s trauma team greeting him in the landing bay, expressing alarm until he assured them that he and Gareki were both smeared with his patients’ blood, not their own, from keeping pressure on the boys’ wounds before Akari applied portable stasis fields to them. Akari remembered Gareki’s uncharacteristic, impassioned plea earlier, his claim that Akari could save almost any life. Frankly, Akari wasn’t sure how this boy was even still alive. Sheer will alone was apparently keeping his heart beating, albeit there was frighteningly little blood left to pump, though he had an IV hooked up to each arm, adding two liters of plasma to the dwindled supply. Akari needed to type and cross-match his patients’ blood as soon as he could. Plasma could only go so far.

They hurried down the corridor towards Sickbay. He’d already called ahead with what he needed, so he trusted the treatment room would be ready. Every second counted.

They had just reached Sickbay when the entire Ship jolted, shuddered and then shook, violently enough that Akari was tossed into one of the examination beds, and he wasn’t the only one to lose his footing. Emergency claxons began blaring as the lights blacked out and then flashed back on at half strength, as the emergency back-ups kicked in, the two Sheep in the room bleating in distress and scurrying to inspect for damage, a process that was likely being repeated all over the ship.

“What just happened? Did we somehow collide with Ship One?”Akari asked aloud, rhetorically. Then he called out to Gareki and his team, ensuring everyone was alright.

Astonishingly, there was a second blast, but this time Akari braced himself on the gurney and instinctively tented himself protectively over his patient, not a moment too soon, as a third and fourth blast rocked the Ship, sending personnel and equipment flying in first one direction and then the other, as the air filled with the sharp sting of ozone and more ominously, smoke, the battered and beleaguered air purifiers of the environmental system unable to compensate quickly enough to filter the air.

“We’re under attack!” one of his people yelled in panic.

“Obviously. Calm down,” Akari ordered coolly. “Panic won’t do anyone any good, and we have a life to save, and most likely a number of others, shortly. Geoffrey, check Shuzo. That laceration needs attention. The rest of you appear relatively uninjured. I want half of you to leave us and check the Control and Communications Rooms, and then the Library, Commissary, corridors and quarters for injured crew members. With only a skeleton crew aboard, there should be somewhere between one and two dozen nonmedical personnel. I want those of you who are left to help me as long as you can with this patient, then two of you start triage for the additional wounded, if it becomes necessary.

“Gareki, I believe you’re the only Combat Personnel we have left onboard. See if you can figure out what’s happening from the security scanners and the Sheep, and then contact both Tsukitachi on Ship One and Hirato on the ground for backup and assistance, and let us know what the hell is going on as soon as you can.”

0 0 0

“Got it,” Gareki said, the usual pride he would have felt at being called Combat Personnel when he was nowhere near graduating yet buried because of the grimness of the situation. He headed at a run for the Control Room, ready to draw his gun, in case they’d been boarded by their unknown enemy, relieved when there weren’t any additional impacts, or signs of intruders. Whatever had struck the Ship multiple times had already done more than enough damage, as evidenced by the chaos around him, the Sheep fortunately handling damage control, the pungent scent of fire suppressant rapidly replacing the odor of ozone and smoke in the air.

The stupid four-eyed turd had left his Ship vulnerable, sending everyone out to search for Yogi. And not only his own Ship. Captain Tsukitachi’s crew was assisting in the search. Had Ship One been attacked as well?

Gareki’s eyes widened when he reached Control, at the view both inside and outside the Ship. He quickly checked for a pulse on the two prone men manning Control, relieved to discover they were both still alive. He piped a call across the Ship’s intercom, alerting the medical team that they had two patients in Control, even as he stared in consternation at the view outside the Ship.

Where the hell had that enormous grey storm cloud come from? There hadn’t been anything like it outside moments ago, when they’d flown up and docked. Even as he watched, the cloud was rapidly dissipating, with unnatural speed, as if the subdued flashes of lightning inside it were blasting it apart.

_Lightning!_ _Could those massive impacts have been lightning strikes?_ _Why didn’t the weather detection system and storm dampeners protect the Ship?_

Then Ship One listed into view and Gareki gaped in shock. The distinctive blue lighting on the underbelly of Ship One was all but extinguished, and an enormous column of smoke was rising from the location of their Engine Room. Whatever had attacked them had definitely hit Ship One as well, apparently harder, unless Ship Two looked just as bad from the outside.

Gareki checked their own controls, settings and readings, ensuring Ship Two wasn’t in danger of crashing, or losing environmental control. He typed in an override code he’d hacked only the day before and diverted power from the Commissary and Library to Sickbay, Control and Communications. Then he stared at the storm dampener control panel in disbelief. _Someone turned the system off! We’ve been sabotaged!_

His hand went immediately to his gun, and he drew it, eyeing the two apparently unconscious men warily. Then the medical crew arrived, freezing when they saw his weapon. “One or both of them is a traitor. Make sure they’re not playing possum, check them for weapons while I cover you and then strap them down when you treat them. Warn Akari. I’ll head for Communications, to contact Ship One and Hirato, on the ground, as soon as I’m certain you’ll be safe.”

“Yes, sir!” one of the men replied, as if he was actually Combat Personnel, and outranked him.

As soon as the prisoners were bound, Gareki headed for the Communications Room, afraid of what he’d find. _What if Communications has been sabotaged as well, and disabled?_

When he arrived at the Communications Room, the situation was far more chaotic than the Control Room had been. There was a row of four coughing, gasping, hacking men and women in the corridor with three medical personnel aiding them, and a line of Sheep beyond them, blocking the door to the room.

“Get out of the way, Muttonheads,” Gareki ordered, but the Sheep refused to budge.

“Not until the fires are out, baa,” three of them insisted in chorus.

Gareki was ready to vault over them, knowing he well might be tackled, when a soot covered Sheep emerged from the room. “The fires are extinguished, baa. The room is safe, baa.”

As soon as he heard that, Gareki vaulted over the sooty Sheep.

_Damn it!_ The equipment was a blackened, melted mess of plastic and metal. It would take time and replacement parts he didn’t have to get it working again. Instead, he left the room and headed for the Auxiliary Communications Room. To his relief, both the room and equipment appeared intact and undamaged. With a little fiddling and tinkering, aided by one of the Sheep, he was able to get the Auxiliary Communications console to bypass the disabled main Ship’s antennae and get the equipment transmitting on the right frequency, using the auxiliary antennae.

The moment the equipment went live, Gareki picked up a patchy, static filled and distorted distress call from Ship One. Identifying himself by name, and stating he was Acting Combat Personnel of Ship Two, transmitting the proper security codes for verification to the wary crew member manning their communications, Gareki was able to get a full update on Ship One’s status. In response, he dispatched a full half of the Ship Two Sheep to aid the Ship One Rabbits, which were overwhelmed just keeping Ship One in the air.

Ship One had confirmed they had indeed been hit by lightning strikes, of an unnaturally intense size and voltage. Although Ship One had only taken two hits to their four, they’d taken a direct hit to their Engine Room. They reported that their storm dampeners had suspiciously been offline, even though a check of the storm detection equipment records clearly showed the rapidly building storm as a significant threat to the Ship.

Once Gareki was certain Ship One would stay aloft and functioning, and that they didn’t have any casualties their own medical personnel couldn’t treat, Gareki called Akari over the intercom to fill him in on the situation. He got one of his assistants, who promised to relay the information, once Akari was finished with the initial procedure on their critical patient.

Then Gareki contacted Hirato. Once Hirato heard what had occurred, he immediately called Tsukitachi, who was on the ground with him, and they jointly recalled three-quarters of the search teams, and headed back to their respective Ships.

Gareki had never been so relieved to see Hirato, except for when he saved him from that Varuga. He was glad the Ship’s recorders had captured a record of the cloud, because it had completely vanished, as if it had never existed. Gareki still couldn’t believe that the danger had both arisen and ended so abruptly, that the lightning strikes hadn’t been a precursor to a major attack by Kafka. So then what had the motive been and who had sabotaged both Ships? Who was their new enemy? This was too elaborate to have merely been a test of some new weapon, too good an opportunity for true destruction to pass by.

0 0 0

Seldom had Hirato been so incensed, and if he were to be brutally honest with himself, frightened. Someone had sabotaged and attacked his Ship, while he wasn’t there to protect her, and worse, while both Akari and Gareki had been on board, left all but defenseless because of his stupidity. It was a miracle they hadn’t lost both Ships, as well as their irreplaceable crews. He would have privately mourned any loss, in spite of the public façade he showed his crew, but if Akari and Gareki had been killed, ultimately because of Yogi…

He downed the single shot of scotch he’d allowed himself far too quickly, when he had an almost overwhelming urge to deplete the entire bottle of Tsukitachi’s private stock which his friend had left in his office, after their last “tea party”. He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It had been too damn long since they’d tricked or coerced Akari into one of those drinking parties. But now was hardly the time. With a sigh, he put away the bottle.

There was a knock on his door, which he wished he could ignore. With a second, heavier sigh, he put his glasses back on, composing his face into his usual mask of calm assurance, and leaned back indolently in his seat. “Enter.”

He was surprised to see it was Gareki. The boy strode into the room as if he owned it and sat insolently down on the sofa. “I found out who sabotaged both Ships’ storm dampener systems,” he announced without preamble.

“Who?” Hirato demanded, sitting up alertly, the single word a command. He was going to take great delight in interrogating the filthy traitors.

“Sheep 47, for our Ship and Rabbit 26 on Ship One,” Gareki replied glibly, as if he hadn’t just pronounced doom for both Ships.

“Someone found a way to reprogram the Sheep and Rabbits to act against us, bypassing the security protocols and destruct mechanisms that prohibit that?” Hirato asked, bolting to his feet, ready to destroy every one of those bleating time bombs on his Ship.

“Relax,” Gareki said, with maddening calm, waving him back to his seat. “They weren’t reprogrammed. They weren’t even faultily programmed. Instead, it became clear that we needed to adjust their programming to account for magic,” Gareki explained, making Hirato’s head ache worse than before.

“This is no time for bad jokes,” Hirato scolded.

“I’m not joking. I’m citing one of Clarke’s Three Laws: ‘Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.’ That was exactly what happened to us: we were the victims of magic. Somehow, a tremendous cumulonimbus storm cloud was generated, to all intents and purposes, instantaneously, from both Ships’ instrument records. The cloud was immediately recognized as a danger to the Ships, and automatically triggered the storm dampening system on each Ship.

“But the respective computers at the same time insisted that such a cloud could not possibly have come into existence so precipitously, and that there must therefore instead be an error in either the sensors, the storm dampening system, or both. So on our Ship, Sheep 47 took the storm dampener system offline and began running a diagnostic on the system, as there was far less of a statistical probability that the sensors, which are in constant use, could be faulty. And on Ship One, Rabbit 26 came to the identical erroneous conclusion, and did the same. And both Ships almost got blown out of the sky by multiple lightning strikes as a result of the Sheep’s and Rabbit’s perfectly logical yet completely flawed analysis of the situation.”

Hirato, who had been staring at Gareki as he described the scenario, blinked. “It appears you’ve been learning something in your classes after all,” he said mildly, when he was actually impressed and rather proud of the young man.

Gareki shrugged. “So I took the liberty of adding Clarke’s Third Law to both the Sheep’s and Rabbits’ programming and made a few other tweaks so they’d react appropriately, the next time something like this happens.”

Hirato froze at all the implications of that casual statement, the most terrifying of which was not that Gareki had managed to compromise security that should not have been able to be cracked and alter what should have been inviolate, but that his baby brother could easily have been killed because of it. He _should_ have been killed for his actions. “They allowed you to alter their programming?” he asked cautiously.

“Tch. Allowed nothing. It’s not like they had a choice in the matter. I just overrode the safety program prohibiting alteration of their programming and added that important missing line of code,” Gareki said, dropping his verbal bomb, apparently completely oblivious to the explosion now rocking Hirato’s world. He knew his little brother was a brilliant mechanic and a gifted hacker, but even he hadn’t expected that level of proficiency with so little formal training. It was more obvious than ever that Gareki was a true prodigy.

Gareki continued on, unaware of the impact of his words. “What I’m concerned about is where that cloud came from, who formed it, and for what purpose? It would have been an excellent first stage of a Kafka plan, a precursor to a massive Varuga attack, but nothing further happened, at least nothing we’ve been able to find. We’ve thoroughly searched and examined both Ships. Which means something might have happened in the City, while we were distracted protecting and repairing our Ships,” Gareki postulated.

Hirato nodded. “We need to be even more vigilant than usual. And if Kafka truly is in the City, we need to make damned sure they don’t get their hands on Yogi.” _Again._

Gareki opened his mouth, but Hirato cut him off, before he could utter a word. “I need you here, Gareki. Right now you’re far more important to the Ship as a Mechanic than as Combat Personnel. We still have a number of repairs to complete.”

“That’s what the Sheep are for,” Gareki said disdainfully.

Hirato shook his head. “As you’ve seen, adept as the Sheep are, they are only machines, only as perfect as their programming. They make mistakes. They need human oversight. They need you.”

Gareki glared at him. “So does Yogi. I heard you and Dr. Akari talking about what happened the last time he turned. Dr. Akari said I’m the only one he’s ever protected, while Silver Yogi, and the only one who’s been able to snap him out of it, even temporarily, without using medication.”

_Until the day he kills you._ It was Hirato’s greatest fear, and he had a number of fears, which he kept carefully locked away and never revealed to anyone.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware you’d been made Captain of this vessel. Last I checked, that illustrious honor belonged to me. My Ship, my rules. You stay onboard, period. That was an order, not a request. If you ever hope to become Ship’s Personnel on a more permanent basis, you’re going to have to learn to follow orders. I’m sure your teachers must have told you that,” Hirato said, letting the tiniest hint of exasperation creep into his voice.

He watched in satisfaction as Gareki’s jaw clenched and his face flushed in embarrassment, or perhaps anger. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was, he’d won, and Gareki knew it. “The sooner you get back to work, the sooner the job will be done.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Gareki snarled, the venom he injected into the title making it sound like the most vile insult.

Once he was alone in his office again, Hirato felt his tense muscles relax marginally. At least Gareki had listened. For now, at any rate. He’d have to make certain the cameras kept an eye on him, and that a human was monitoring them, because Gareki had just proven he now had the Ship’s Sheep wrapped around his little finger.


	10. My Brother’s Keeper

Gareki set the surveillance system in his room, both audio and visual, to the loops he’d created, with a casual few strikes of the keyboard, and then, free from being monitored, he tapped far more deeply into the Ship’s surveillance system with contemptuous ease. Hirato knew more than he was saying. That four-eyed turd always knew more than he was saying, but this went beyond that. He’d be damned if he’d let that bastard keep him in the dark and obediently do the grunt work the Sheep weren’t only capable of doing, but were specifically designed and engineered to do.

He set the bypass program to notify him when Hirato left his cabin, and then activated his Shepherd program, which allowed him to both monitor and control every Sheep onboard. _Excellent._ Sheep 23 wasn’t one of the ones he’d already modified, and it had just completed its current task. One Sheep more or less wouldn’t harm the Ship, and what he was doing could well save it, one day. Gareki summoned the Sheep, instructing it to enter through the usual route, from the maintenance shaft to the vent in his room, so the cameras in the corridor wouldn’t show a discrepancy with the loop now playing in his room.

Gareki was eager to continue work on his pet project. He’d only been able to get so far at school, not because access to the armory and the explosives it contained was so stringent, he’d infiltrated there within his first week on campus, but because of the lack of Sheep to alter and implant with the special robotic explosives he’d designed and created.

Less than a half hour later, just after he’d finished modifying the Sheep and set it back out to continue with maintenance work, Hirato was called to the Control Room for something that looked like it would take a sufficient amount of time. Gareki replaced the loop in his room with live feed and set the program to loop the feed in the corridor outside Hirato’s cabin and the one intersecting it, so it would look like he was continuing on to the supply compartment. Then he left his room and headed down the corridor, silently counting, to keep within the exact window of the loops, and so he would arrive at Hirato’s door after the override unlocked it.

He entered Hirato’s cabin, exhaling in relief. Unlike the rest of the Ship, Hirato’s cabin was not actively monitored. Of course, it was originally designed to be, but Gareki had discovered a bypass program had been implemented years ago, and was regularly updated, with a similar loop program to the one he used. His, of course, was better. He smirked and headed for Hirato’s terminal. He was eager to try out some of the new hacking tricks he’d learned at school on the Ship’s computer, and Hirato’s console had the widest range of access in the entire Ship, save for the Control Room, and was far easier to breach than the latter, without discovery.

Gareki found it hard to believe that, in all the time Circus had existed, no one had come across Varuga like the ones they had fought. Captain Tsukitachi had gone so far as to question whether they really even were Varuga, before he and Hirato had realized he was listening, which was ridiculous. What else could they possibly be? But the two Captains had exchanged a look which made him think that perhaps they knew something important that they weren’t telling the rest of them, for reasons he couldn’t guess.

He accessed the search engine, using a backdoor code he’d figured out before leaving the Ship and receiving any formal training, and typed in the search phrase “Black Star Varuga Virus,” hoping to get a lead on the strange Varuga and the deadly virus. The computer immediately responded, offering him two options: files created by Dr. Akari and last updated earlier in the day, or Eyes Only files of unspecified date and origin, the latter requiring both a Council password and access code. Heart pounding, he immediately chose the former, to stall for time. Eyes Only files were top level security clearance files, meant exclusively for the Council only, files not even Ship Captains had unauthorized access to. _What do they know? What are they hiding?_

Gareki connected his portable drive and downloaded Akari’s files onto it as he debated what to do. Could the hacking program he’d created in school, the one on the drive he’d already attached, actually crack the Council’s files? _Do I risk it? If they catch me, I’ll be expelled._ He’d be unable to achieve his dream to return to Ship Two as fully fledged Combat Personnel. He might never see Yogi and Nai again.

_No. It’s good enough. I’m good enough._ Without further hesitation, he initiated the program to hack the password and access code, knowing there would be a timer and alarm for entering the proper responses.

Gareki grinned in triumph when the password and access code fields populated and he entered the forbidden data system, but then his heart froze when he saw a warning flash on the screen, even after he realized it was apparently just a standard message, that it didn’t mean they had caught him: _Unauthorized access to this database is punishable by full memory wipe, lifetime incarceration, or death._

_Shit._ But it was too late to stop now, regardless of the potential penalty. He had to find out more, including why Circus might be willing to kill their own members to keep the knowledge from them.

Heart racing, he read the folder titles his “Black Star Varuga Virus” search revealed:

**COURT-MARTIAL CASES 0136 AND 0137**

**THE BLACK ORDER**

**PERSONNEL FILES**

He had enough storage space in his device to copy all three folders, but there might be additional passwords for which he’d need to be in the system to crack, to access the subfolders or files.

He opened the first folder, **COURT-MARTIAL CASES 0136 AND 0137** , revealing two subfolders:  
  
**0136 Defection of Ship Captain One Marian Cross**  
  
0137 Defection of Ship Captain Two Mana Walker

He clicked on the second subfolder, and then on the first file within, only scanning the first document, to ensure the text was legible and not encrypted. Then he hastily backed out of the file and subfolder, and copied all three folders onto the device, without researching them further.

Then he backed completely out of the system, logged off, and shut down Hirato’s computer, yanking out the drive, realizing his hand was shaking, as he stared at it. _Post adrenaline rush. Not fear._ He reached for the door and cursed, seeing the time displayed on his watch. He’d almost made a rookie mistake. He couldn’t leave yet. The corridor programs weren’t set to engage the second loop yet, for the return trip to his cabin.

He waited, heart pounding, looking guiltily at the computer on Hirato’s desk, half expecting it to come back to life on its own, or for alarm claxons overhead to start shrilling, or for an army of Sheep to be waiting outside Hirato’s door.

He opened the door the second his watch indicated he could and exhaled silently in relief. _No claxons. No Sheep. I did it!_ The mental yell was triumphant and foolish. _No, idiot. You know better than that. You’re not safe until you’re back at your operations base. No, not even then. This might still come back and bite you on the ass, remember that._

Grim faced and subdued, Gareki headed back to his cabin. He had files to read.

0 0 0

Hirato headed back to his cabin. He’d no sooner gotten there, than his communication’s console buzzed and flashed. When he saw the outside communication priority code was Ultraviolet, he cursed. UV was reserved for only the most catastrophic events. “Captain Hirato,” he said, wondering what calamity had happened now. When he heard his brother Tokitatsu’s voice he almost disconnected the call in irritation, until his words registered.

“Damn it, Hirato! How the _hell_ did you get hold of my Council access code and password again? You promised you’d stay away from those files. You already know everything that’s in them. I know you don’t like me, but are you actively _trying_ to get me killed?” Tokitatsu accused.

“What are you talking about? I haven’t touched those files since the last time you yelled at me for them,” Hirato denied.

“Bullshit. You accessed them not five minutes ago, from your terminal. I warned you we’d increased security. If I didn’t have an alarm and delay linked to those files, you could easily have been caught. Although I have to hand it to you, looking at them now, there’s no evidence at all you were even there. You’ve certainly upgraded your hacking skills, unless you were just sloppy before. The alternative, that you actually had someone else hack for you this time, isn’t something I even want to think about,” Tokitatsu proclaimed.

Hirato felt his stomach drop to his feet. “Damn it. Which files, exactly, were accessed? The ones on the courts-martial, the ones on the Black Order, the personnel files, or all of them?

There was a moment of absolute silence from the other end of the line. “Good God. Please don’t tell me it wasn’t actually you, or someone acting under your orders?” There wasn’t only shock in his brother’s voice, there was something he’d only heard once before: true fear.

“Then I won’t tell you. But if it’s any consolation, I’m 99% certain I know who the culprit is, and he’s not a security risk,” Hirato promised.

“ ** _NOT A RISK_?** Tokitatsu thundered. “He apparently broke into your office, commandeered your computer, cracked our most well-guarded password and access code, ones we change daily, might I remind you, accessed and actually bloody _copied_ our highest level security files and then successfully erased every trace of his presence, and you claim he’s not a risk? Maybe I should make him Captain of Ship Two in your stead,” Tokitatsu threatened.

_Double damn._ For his brother to say something practically guaranteed to make him go ballistic, he must be badly shaken by this. “Never mind my end. No one will be able to see what you’ve done, or overhear this call, correct? You haven’t endangered yourself by trying to warn me off, have you?” Hirato asked, with unaccustomed concern. He despised his brother, but he didn’t want to see him killed, especially not for trying to protect him.

“I’m nearly 100% certain I’m safe,” Tokitatsu said, suddenly sounding decades older than his years. “Do you think Father had any idea what he’d done? How much he and Cross shook up the Council by leaving the way they did?” he asked tiredly.

“For a moment I thought you were referring to how many illegitimate children Father sired. I still wonder if we’ve found all of us,” Hirato said drily. “But it sounds as if you mean that all future Circus personnel would be subjected to mandatory partial memory wipes, and that interpersonal relationships between Ships would be strictly forbidden, to ensure all Ships were completely autonomous, in case one ever had to destroy one of the others?

“No, I doubt either he or Cross realized the draconian depths to which they dragged Circus. Though of course, it’s not as if they truly had a choice in the matter. Neither of them wished to live in exile, after all. At least they had each other.” He sighed. “For a while, anyway.” Because neither the Circus hierarchy nor he and his brother had just let them fall off the map. They’d watched both men, from afar. Hirato knew what happened to their relationship, to his father.

Hirato wondered, sometimes, if his own relationship with Tsukitachi would have taken a different form, had they not known from the start an intimate relationship was untenable. Ultimately, being a Ship’s Captain had meant more to them than anything. Not to vindicate their fathers, of course. Hirato and Tsukitachi both still knew of the men because Tokitatsu had secretly arranged to have his own memory left intact, and had ensured that Hirato’s and Tsukitachi’s were restored, as soon as it was safe for him to arrange it.

In spite of his bond to Tsukitachi, and what he suspected of the far more intimate bond between their fathers, the moment Hirato had met Akari, at the time his professor, he’d known he was fated to make the man his. Of course, that had yet to go as well as he had hoped, but he was a patient man. At least Akari no longer thought of him as his student, as a child.

“Damn it, Hirato, are you even listening to me?” Tokitatsu demanded.

“No,” Hirato admitted.

“Never mind. I have my suspicions, but at least I’ll truly be able to claim ignorance at my trial, if it comes to that,” Tokitatsu griped melodramatically.

“Good. Then if you’re done, I’ll be going. I have a felon to catch,” Hirato said, disconnecting the communication, without giving Tokitatsu a chance to utter any final words.

0 0 0

Gareki stared at the computer screen. He’d skimmed the description of the Black Order, and gone to the file entry on Akuma, the name for the demons the Order fought. He was currently reading the entry about _Mavrosasteridialysios_ , the Black Star Dissolving Virus:   
  
Vaccination:       no known  
Antidote:             no known   
Treatment:         no known   
Mortality Rate: 100%   
Incubation:         seconds  
  
He shivered and then yelped when his locked door opened unexpectedly. He quickly blanked the screen, and was relieved he’d done so, when he saw it was Hirato.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” Hirato asked, far too innocently, closing the door behind him and locking it again.

“No,” Gareki lied.

“Really? If I were to access the security feed from this camera, would it report otherwise?” Hirato asked, pointing to an innocuous looking section of the ceiling.

Gareki smirked. “No. I set it to play a loop, any time I don’t want you to know what I’m doing,” he admitted honestly. He’d done something similar in his old room with Nai, back when he’d been on the Ship the first time.

“I see. Sound as well?” Hirato asked.

“Yeah, I killed the bugs, too,” he admitted.

“Well that’s something at least. Gareki, are you aware those files you copied can get you, me and even a Council member executed?”

_Executed? Then that warning **was** serious, and not just a scare tactic? But a Council member? And Hirato knows about the files? Shit, are they on their way to arrest me? Where did I screw up?_

“I know you and I have had our differences since you came aboard. I do recognize that’s not entirely your fault. I certainly take responsibility for my own shortcomings. I seem incapable of having the appropriate filial relationships with my siblings,” Hirato said calmly.

“ _Siblings?_ What the hell are you… are you trying to tell me you’re my _brother_?” Gareki asked, stunned.

“Damn. I was told you accessed and copied those files. Apparently you hadn’t actually read them yet. You’re not supposed to know about us. _We’re_ not supposed to know about us. We don’t undergo mandatory memory wipes to forget out families just to protect them. Emotional ties weaken Circus. At least, that’s what the Council chooses to believe. It’s been my personal experience that we fight far more fiercely when we are protecting our shipmates, than when we allow them to die, for the sake of the mission,” Hirato said coolly.

“They would never execute you. You’re a Ship Captain,” Gareki fished, arguing against his earlier statement. _Surely the four-eyed turd is just saying that to discourage me from reading them?_

Hirato sighed. “I’m afraid the Council takes a rather dim and draconian view of treason. And Tsukitachi and I are already skating on thin ice, merely because of the bonds of our respective blood. Both our fathers were accused of treason, after all. That’s why publically we keep up such a careful front of rivalry. The last thing the Council wants is to have two Ship Captains at once turn traitor again.”

“ _Again?_ You mean your fathers were Walker and Cross? They were both Ship Captains? Why did they betray Circus?” Gareki asked.

“They didn’t. At least, not intentionally. They had the extreme misfortune of saving the life of an Exorcist, a General in the Black Order by the name of Yeager, who was carrying four pieces of Innocence with him. Innocence is an extremely powerful raw form of the weapons the Black Order uses, something quite similar to Incuna cells. Two of the pieces of Innocence he was carrying resonated strongly with each of them. In short, they were the Accommodators for the Innocence, the hosts, if you will. Chosen by God, General Yeager told them. They had no choice in the matter. And crucial as our war with Kafka and the Varuga is, for the safety of humanity, the Black Order is fighting a foe no less deadly: the Millennium Earl and the Akuma. We misidentified those creatures we defeated earlier. They were Akuma, not Varuga.

“There are only 109 pieces of Innocence in the entire world, many of which have yet to be found, and fewer still whose Accommodators are known. When our fathers learned about the Order and their enemy, they decided to resign from Circus and fight as Exorcists. Unfortunately, the Council refused their resignations. They were not allowed to leave and were instead arrested, a mistake on the part of the Council. They escaped, of course. It was quite a messy situation for everyone concerned. Had one or the other been chosen, the other would likely have never left. They were inseparable.”

“But what about their families? You and Tsukitachi, and your mothers?” Gareki asked, leaving himself out. He still couldn’t believe he might truly be Hirato’s brother.

“Tch. There are plenty of warm beds and willing women in the world, when they tire of one another, or fight. Any offspring that result have never been their concern. Those two men never loved our mothers or us. Or likely you or yours, sadly, if Father even knew about you. They loved only themselves, and each other.”

Hirato said it as if he weren’t one of the sons, as if it didn’t matter. But Gareki knew all too well the pain of that rejection. He’d been abandoned by his birth mother, sold by his initial foster parents, and because of his own actions, abandoned by the foster brother from his new family. “So I’m really your brother? That asshole who’s your father is mine too?”

Hirato shrugged. “Unfortunately, you can’t choose your relatives.”

His words were like a bullet to the heart. _Idiot. You know better than to care._ ”Yeah. Guess you got the worst possible hand dealt to you, huh? A jerk like that for a father, and me for a brother, right?” Gareki asked, hating how his voice hitched on the word “brother”.

“Idiot,” Hirato said, confirming his thoughts, but when Gareki looked him in the eyes, expecting to see scorn and derision, instead, Hirato’s eyes softened, and he saw only affection. “As fathers go, we might have both been dealt a poor hand, but we didn’t do too badly at all when it came to brothers. Just don’t ever tell Tokitatsu I said so.”

Gareki’s eyes widened in shock at the implication. “Councilman Tokitatsu is our brother, too?”

Hirato grimaced. “Finish reading those files. When you’re done, we need to wipe and then destroy that drive. We can’t risk that information leaking to anyone, or being caught with it in our possession. And don’t try to hack the system again. You might have been caught if Tokitatsu didn’t have his own security on those particular files. Never become overconfident.”

“Tch. _You’re_ lecturing _me_ on that?” Gareki scoffed, as Hirato opened the door to go. Gareki turned back to the computer, ignoring his departure. _Annoying four-eyed turd._ So why did he feel so much lighter inside, like a rock that had been crushing his chest for years was suddenly lifted?


	11. Difficult Patient

Kanda became dimly aware of an annoying, rhythmic beeping sound invading the grayness of his mind, just disturbing enough to drag him from the morass he had sunk far too deeply in, bringing him to the troubling awareness that something was seriously wrong with him. He was drowning, and as aggravating as that sound was, it was his only lifeline. He focused on the noise, concentrating on it, trying to drag himself towards it through the strength of his will alone, since for some reason his body was completely insensate and unresponsive to his commands.

Dimly, the sounds of muffled conversation joined the beeping, and he focused on the voices as well, trying to make out the words.

“…is our patient, Akari-kun?” a deep male voice asked, more casual interest than concern reflected in it.

“Alive, no thanks to me,” a second male voice replied, this one tinged with bitterness, annoyance and frustration.

“I seriously doubt that, Doctor. He actually looks remarkably recovered to me, which is no less than I’d expect from a physician of your esteemed caliber,” the first voice said, teasing with a hint of mockery in the tone. “Without your skill…” he began, but he was abruptly cut off.

“My skills have been worthless. In fact, it’s likely I’ve done him more harm than good. I had to disconnect him from the dialysis machines,” Doctor Akari, argued.

“Were they malfunctioning?” the first voice asked, all teasing gone, alert concern replacing it.

“Tch. They were working fine. They just weren’t needed. Because somehow, this man, who wasn’t only at death’s door, but firmly standing in death’s bloody parlor, managed to regenerate both his kidneys, in the span of hours, something that he shouldn’t have been able to do at all,” the Doctor complained, as if his patient had personally insulted him.

It was with that pronouncement that Kanda realized the two men were talking about _him_ **.** That _he_ had been the one who should have died. He’d apparently been severely wounded, or even killed, once again. And miraculously healed, again. Which meant another petal of his precious lotus was lying at the bottom of the hourglass in his room. He wondered which Branch Office infirmary or private hospital he was in this time. Not that it truly mattered. He’d be leaving soon. At least now his temporary paralysis made sense. The lotus wouldn’t allow him to move until it felt he could do so without aggravating his injuries, unless he was in danger. It was a built in safety mechanism, so he didn’t waste the petals and die before his quest had been completed.

“… a Varuga?” the first voice asked anxiously, and Kanda silently cursed as he realized he’s missed some of their conversation because of his musings.

“Of course I’m sure, you idiot! That was the first thing I checked. Do you think I’d risk letting one of those monsters loose on the Ship?” Doctor Akari was beyond indignant; he was infuriated.

“Forgive me. I had to ask. You’re the one who said his healing ability is inhuman. Naturally, I would suspect  Incure cell contamination,” the other man appeased.

“All the tests I ran came up negative. The only interesting thing I discovered was that he’s your blood type, Rh-null, rare as it is. In fact, you’d better be careful not to injure yourself too severely any time soon, as I had to all but drain your supply dry transfusing him during the surgery I conducted, as pointless as it ended up being. But aside from his astonishing healing ability, he’s as human as I am. I’m certain a number of people would say more than I am, considering I’ve been told my bedside manner is appalling, by people who’s opinion I actually respect,” the Doctor sniped in both self-derision and an apparent attack against the other man.

“Indeed. You wound me, Doctor, when I thought it was a physician’s function to heal,” the other man parried. “I take it his other organs have regenerated just as remarkably? Does that mean he’s out of danger and expected to make a full recovery?”

“He’s nearly fully recovered, yes. Whether or not he’ll actually regain consciousness, or when, however, is anyone’s guess. I have no idea what toll an accelerated healing like this might take on his body or his mind, but I would expect he would have to pay some sort of price,” the Doctor speculated.

Yes, there was a price, but it was pointless to think about it.

“Excellent. Because it is quite likely that if Yogi ran afoul of one Exorcist of the Black Order, then he will run afoul of the other two we know are here, and there might even be more than the three.”

_Three? There was someone else here besides him! Who? And why didn’t three sound right?_

“If Yogi actually manages not to kill anyone, perhaps the Exorcists won’t in turn kill him as the monster he appears to be,” the other man said grimly. “And, if they’ve captured him, we can arrange a prisoner exchange.”

“I wasn’t aware my patient was a pawn in one of your games, Hirato,” the Doctor rebuked sharply, censure and outrage in his voice.

“Really, my dear Doctor. You should know by now that everyone is merely a pawn, in one manner or another,” Hirato chided. “For now, it would be best to keep him unconscious. Inject him with whatever you need to, to see that he doesn’t cause the Ship any further trouble,” he commanded.

“I don’t tell you how to run your Ship, _Captain_. Don’t you dare have the effrontery to think you can tell me how to run my sickbay, or tend to my patients,” the Doctor replied glacially.

“My Ship, my rules, Doctor. You knew those were the terms, when you came aboard. Knock him out, or I will, and I can assure you, my methods would cause far more damage than your own,” Captain Hirato ordered.

There was the sound of a door closing and then of something heavy impacting a hard surface and shattering, and with it, the lotus apparently sensing he might be in potential danger, Kanda was thankfully able to move.

“Damn that arrogant, overbearing, self-important ass!” Doctor Akari snarled, as he approached the bed Kanda was lying on.

As soon as the Doctor sounded to be within striking range, Kanda’s eyes snapped open and he lunged off the bed, tackling the shocked man before he could react, bringing them both crashing to the floor, a metal tray of equipment clattering down beside them. As a roll of gauze unrolled along the floor, Kanda snatched up a serviceably deadly looking pair of scissors and held them to the doctor’s jugular, pressing the point in just deep enough to prove he wouldn’t hesitate to carry out his threat. He didn’t want to kill a human, especially not an unarmed one, a Doctor, but he was no man’s pawn, and he wouldn’t be used as a weapon against the Order, either. “If you want to live, Doctor Akari, you’re getting me out of here,” Kanda demanded.

“Damn you, Hirato,” the Doctor whispered. “You play possum quite well. But I assure you, whichever part of that you heard wasn’t nearly as ominous as it sounded,” the Doctor claimed, both the conviction and level of his voice increasing as he spoke.

Kanda replied by pressing the point of the scissors into his throat more deeply, drawing a thin trickle of blood. “Not too loudly, Doctor,” Kanda threatened.

“I won’t. I may not have been able to do much to help you, but I certainly don’t want to see you further harmed. You won’t believe me, but the attack against you was _not_ intentional, nor was it the fault of the man who attacked you. Blame the Varuga, and take your vengeance out on them. Or me, if you must. If I was better at my job, Yogi wouldn’t be so unstable. Please put your weapon down. Hirato may not sound it, but he’s ridiculously protective of everyone aboard his Ship, even me. You’re risking your own life far worse than mine,” the Doctor insisted, his voice remarkably calm and intent. For someone who claimed to be lacking in beside manner, he was quite convincing.

“Captain Hirato appears to value hostages. I’m merely playing his game, using one of his own pawns against him,” Kanda replied coolly. He needed his sword. And clothes, preferably, but they were of secondary importance. If he had to leave here naked, he would. “Where are my things?”

“Your clothes were destroyed,” the Doctor replied.

“My sword,” he clarified impatiently.

“Ah. Of course. I’m afraid we don’t know. The Captain knows you had a sword, from the witness reports, but there wasn’t one when we found you. You do realize that we rescued you? That we did everything in our not inconsiderable power to save your life?” the Doctor explained, sounding indignant.

“You did nothing but hinder my healing, Doctor, exactly as you surmised,” Kanda said with deliberate cruelty, fighting panic at the thought that Mugen might truly be gone.

The man in his arms stiffened, as if impaled. The blow had definitely struck home. “Yes, well, we can’t all be as bloody perfect as people think we are,” Doctor Akari muttered darkly.

The door opened, and Kanda spun toward it, the Doctor still pinned against him, the scissors jabbing his neck deeper, a trickle of blood running down Kanda’s fingers.

Shocked blue eyes hardened as the teenage boy in the doorway unexpectedly drew a gun and pointed it at Kanda’s face with astonishing speed. “Let Akari go,” the dark haired boy demanded in a deadly cold voice.

“Gareki, no!” the Doctor protested, either knowing he’d die too, or worried for the kid. “It’s Hirato’s fault, for provoking him,” Akari added, to Kanda’s surprise. The doctor was actually trying to protect _him_?

“You’re bleeding,” Gareki stated, eerily without inflection.

“It’s not serious. My fault for moving, actually,” the Doctor lied.

_Damn it._ _Is he intentionally trying to make this harder? Was the Doctor telling the truth when he stated they aren’t the villains they sounded to be?_

“Gareki, please put away your gun, before this escalates any further, and I end up dead,” the Doctor urged.

_Tch. So the Doctor is just trying to save his own skin._

A taller form appeared behind Gareki and Kanda froze in surprise. _Lavi?_ Kanda realized too late that the outraged eyes were gold not green and that there were two of them, even as they vanished, and in the next instant, impossibly, a hand wrapped around Kanda’s throat from behind and yanked him back, as a second hand simultaneously clamped around his wrist and wrenched his arm back, with an audible crack, forcing him to drop the scissors without cutting the Doctor. Agony shot down Kanda’s arm and side as he fought to breathe.

“Damn it, Tsukitachi! Let him go!” Akari demanded, grabbing the infuriated redhead’s hand, and attempting to pry it from Kanda’s throat.

“He hurt you,” Tsukitachi snarled, fuming.

“It’s nothing, you idiot! A misunderstanding! Hirato’s fault! You didn’t have to break his arm! You’re worse than Yogi! At least he had an excuse!” the Doctor accused.

The grip on Kanda’s throat loosened but didn’t release entirely, and Kanda gasped in a stuttering breath.

“He’s lucky I didn’t snap his neck, after what he did,” the redhead grumbled.

Dr. Akari turned to Kanda, the anger in his eyes changing to compassion. “If I set the bone and immobilize your arm in a cast, will it help, or inhibit your ability to heal?”

Kanda didn’t reply, unsure of what he should say or reveal. _If they’re truly the enemy, why aren’t they killing me?_

“Damn it, Tsukitachi, let him go! Gareki’s still pointing his gun at him, if you’re worried about me. I’m sure he’ll happily shoot him if he tries anything, since you both seem so intent on finishing the job Yogi started!” the Doctor yelled. “It’s my own damned fault I was injured. If I was a better doctor, Yogi wouldn’t have lost control and almost killed this man. I only hope his other victim fares better.”

_Other victim? Who else was… Allen!_ All the blood drained from Kanda’s face, and he sagged in the redhead’s arms, as if his legs had been cut out from under him, as memory flared with the details of the battle, and the horrific vision of Allen’s limp body, all but buried alive, his bloody hair and face, his eye gouged out.

He grabbed the Doctor with his good hand, not caring if that man Tsukitachi killed him for it. “Allen! Where’s Allen?” he shouted frantically. He shouldn’t betray so much, but he couldn’t help himself, his control sapped from his own injuries and his fear for Allen. 

“Hey, calm down! You mean that white-haired kid the witnesses saw Yogi carrying?” Gareki asked, the gun still pointed at him, but an unexpected note of sympathy or compassion in his voice.

“White hair, short, thin, 15 years old, a red cursemark around his left eye, like a tattoo, but his eye was gouged out in the battle. Allen Walker. He’s an Exorcist too,” Kanda explained, fighting to keep from shaking the Doctor.

 “We don’t know. We have every able-bodied man on both Ships out looking for them,” Doctor Akari explained.

“Then why the hell aren’t I down there too?” Gareki snapped.

“ _Walker?”_ Tsukitachi asked, his eyes widening in shock, as if the name was a revelation. “He lost an eye fighting Yogi? Shit. Where’s Hirato?” The sudden concern in his voice was palpable.

“Why do you sound as if Hirato might hurt Yogi for that?” Akari demanded.

“No, it’s that… _damn it_. You’re right. We need to keep him away from Yogi,” Tsukitachi unexpectedly agreed.

“You mean the four-eyed turd knows that kid?” Gareki asked suspiciously.

“No. Of course not,” Tsukitachi lied unconvincingly.

“Your friend Yogi isn’t a man anymore, he’s a monster, a Level 2 Akuma, maybe even a Level 3,” Kanda informed them. “Those vines that came out of the alley floor and attacked me, those are like nothing we’ve ever seen before. I need to rescue Allen and destroy the Akuma before he takes Allen to the Millennium Earl,” Kanda insisted, struggling from Tsukitachi’s grip, ignoring the gun still pointed at him.

“You’re not touching Yogi, Princess. Yogi’s not a monster. He’s just sick. I’m sorry you got in his way, but we’ll handle this. It’s happened before. We know how to treat him,” Gareki said, changing the aim of his gun to Kanda’s leg. “Don’t make me shoot you.”

“No one is killing or shooting anyone! You, sit. I’m going to X-ray you and then set the bone in your arm,” the Doctor commanded Kanda. “You, get yourself and that gun out of my sickbay, and don’t come back unless you’re injured. That goes for you too, Tsukitachi. Why aren’t you part of the search teams?” Akari accused.

“Because Hirato asked me to guard his Ship for him, in case the Varuga used this as a diversion to attack you and Gareki. At least, that’s what he told me. But now I realize it was just that he didn’t want me there when he finds Walker, the sneaky bastard,” Tsukitachi said, without any real heat.

“Tch. So Captain Hirato uses all of you as his pawns,” Kanda scoffed in disdain.

“Do you want me to break your other arm?” Gareki threatened.

Kanda shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll heal.” _How do these people know Allen? Or is it his foster father, Mana Walker, they knew?_ He hated not knowing anything about this new enemy, even whether they truly were an enemy. He kept receiving mixed signals from them.


	12. Captives and Hostages

Lenalee wrung her hands as she watched over Allen, unsure what her next move should be, and not willing to leave him again until he awoke. She’d left Allen at the hospital in the capable hands of the doctors and nurses there and hurried back to the site of the battle, but both Lavi and the Akuma had vanished. She’d scoured the city for them, but hadn’t found a trace. While she was searching, though, she’d seen another person flying through the air, fortunately from behind, and was able to zip away before she was in turn spotted.

But far more disturbing, there had been two incredibly large fantastical vehicles crisscrossed with blue light, hovering just above the clouds. She’d caught a glimpse of them through a break in the cloud cover for only a few moments, but she’d seen them clearly. She’d headed back for the hospital, to protect Allen, and sent a messenger to the _Reliable_ , hoping for word of Lavi, but the man returned and told her that Lavi had never gone back to the ship. The doctors had cleaned and bandaged Allen’s wounds, treating him to the best of their abilities, able to do little to treat his missing eye, but Lenalee knew that, at least, would heal.

_Thank God Allen is still alive! But is Lavi? Has he been captured? Do those strange sky ships belong to the Earl? Was that flying person a Level 2 or even Level 3 Akuma? Is the entire city under that madman’s control? Where is Allen’s Finder? He should have one, if he’s been assigned here. Is his Finder dead? Had there been more than one?_

“L….Lenalee?” Allen asked weakly, and the tears she’d fought down successfully before welled inher eyes, now that he was awake.

“Allen! It’s alright, you’re safe. You’re in a hospital, in Ship’s Haven,” she assured him.

He turned his head with painful slowness, looking both ways and then he frowned. “Where’s… Kanda?” he asked, his voice filled with confusion and worry.

Lenalee paled and swallowed, hard. “Kanda?” _Oh no. Kanda was here, fighting too?_

0 0 0

Allen fought to sit. Lenalee had sounded like she hadn’t even known Kanda was injured! “The alley! He was hurt! He…” Allen saw it replay again, in his mind’s eyes. He’d been fighting to breathe, crushed under the weight of the mountain of brick, the shattered wall, when suddenly it was brushed away as if it was nothing, and he was lifted. At first he thought it was Kanda rescuing him, but when he forced open his right eye, he’d seen a horrific sight, Kanda limp and pinned to the wall, covered in blood, before the person carrying him shifted and he passed out again.

“He’s hurt! We have to save him!” Allen begged, grabbing her shoulders.

She hissed and he realized he was gripping her too hard with his weapon arm.

“Allen, you need to calm down. We’ll find him, if he was here, in the City. Are you sure you’re remembering correctly, that it was this battle?” she asked.

He nodded and then cried out as that action jarred the torn flesh around his destroyed eye. It felt like the spike was piercing him all over again.

“Lie back, keep still. I’ll find him, I swear, as soon as you tell me where to look,” Lenalee urged.

Allen forced himself to relax back against the bed. “We were fighting four Akuma. A building fell onto Kanda and some policemen. I destroyed the Akuma that buried them, and dug them out most of the way, but Kanda made me leave. I ran more blocks, and Kanda followed. Another building fell, crushing a team of horses and a wagon, across from an alley.

“The alley, that’s where… there were three children Akuma left. One of them transformed, it was covered in these bony spikes, and before I could destroy it, it poked out my eye. I finally destroyed it, but there was a lot of damage to the building beside us, and I got buried in brick, and was knocked out. When I came to, I was in a different alley, and the two remaining Akuma were gone, but K…Kanda…” Allen felt his heart race, and tears streaming from his right eye. “He was stabbed with thorny spears, n…nailed to the wall with them, and there was so much b…blood. Someone was holding me, and then I passed out again.”

Lenalee shot to her feet, ghostly pale. “Oh no! I know where to look now. Stay safe. I’ll bring him here, I promise,” Lenalee swore, as she ran for the open window, not wasting time with the door. Allen saw her Dark Boots flare green and then she was gone.

_She’s coming, Kanda. Please don’t die._ Allen’s mind filled with images of Mana, crushed by the wagon. Mana had pushed him safely out of its way, but hadn’t been able to escape it himself. _Mana died saving me. Kanda can’t have too, he just can’t!_

0 0 0

_Damn it._ They’d found Yogi’s smashed communicator, but no further sign of him, save for the destruction his rampage had caused. They weren’t able to pick up the homing signal from his Circus ID, either. Without the communicator or ID, they had no way of tracking him. They were forced to search manually, so far, without any luck. Hirato was getting increasingly anxious.

Tsukitachi strode up to him, but before Hirato could even greet him, he found himself on the receiving end of a completely unexpected right hook. He barely dodged it in time.

“What the hell was that for?” Hirato demanded, incensed.

“That was for leaving Akari in the hands of a naked, scissors wielding madman, you ass! You should be thankful I didn’t break _your_ damned arm. The least you could do is stand there like a man and allow me to hit you,” Tsukitachi bitched.

“What the hell do you mean? Is Akari alright?” Hirato demanded, grabbing his friend by the shoulder and yanking him forward.

“Damn it, are you trying to break _my_ arm? After I defended Akari for you? Of course he’s alright, and if he isn’t, it’s his own damned fault, for ordering me out of Sickbay. Not that I expect you or Akari to actually be grateful, but I sure as hell don’t think it warrants you both attacking me for it,” Tsukitachi growled.

“What happened?” Hirato demanded.

“I already told you. One of his patients attacked him, but somehow I was the one Akari was angry with, for breaking the little bastard’s arm. You’d better watch out, Hirato. It looks like the good Doctor has found someone he likes better than either of us, from the solicitous way he was treating that little maniac. Or maybe he just likes a rough touch, though I never would have imagined Akari would be into bloodplay. Giving, sure, the man has more than a little of the sadist in him, but receiving?”

Tsukitachi choked for breath as Hirato’s steel grip fastened around his throat.

“Tell me exactly what happened, or you’ll get to experience a little more of that sadism firsthand, while Akari’s putting you back together again,” Hirato threatened, not at all in the mood for Tsukitachi’s spiteful jealousy or his petty games.

“Alright,” Tsukitachi gasped, clawing at Hirato’s hand, apparently unwilling to hit him, which was a good thing for his health.

Hirato listened in increasing outrage as his friend recounted what had happened in Sickbay.

“And you and Gareki both left Akari alone with that man?” Hirato demanded, astonished at their stupidity.

“Please. As if I’d risk him like that. There are over a dozen Sheep in the corridor watching that kid’s every move, ready to take him out the second he shows a sign of attacking Akari again. But I thought you might want to oversee the situation personally. Especially since you’re driving both your crew and mine completely insane. We’ll find Yogi, Hirato, but you’re about to have a double mutiny on your hands, if you don’t calm down. I hope allowing you to choke me a little has stemmed at least a little of that unfocused rage of yours,” Tsukitachi said in a huff, adjusting his collar.

Of course Tsukitachi wouldn’t have been that easy to attack, unless he’d allowed it. _Damn it._ He really wasn’t thinking straight, not to have immediately realized that.

“Sorry,” he muttered, the unaccustomed apology tasting foul on his tongue. “Take over for me here, will you? I’ll be in Sickbay.” Akari was likely to attack him, verbally or even physically, but he didn’t care. He needed to see with his own eyes that Akari, at least, was still safe.

0 0 0

Lenalee stood staring at the brick wall, horrified. There were five holes bored into it, with blotches of dried blood surrounding them, but no other sign of Kanda.

A sharp voice from behind made her jump. “Hey, Princess! How the hell did you get off the… you’re not him.”

Lenalee’s eyes widened, not at the gun pointed at her, or the handsome, scowling, youthful face behind it, but at the boy’s words. “Kanda? You’ve seen Kanda?” she demanded.

The boy’s eyes narrowed and he eyed her suspiciously, apparently worried that the gun didn’t seem to faze her. “Maybe. I’m looking for someone too. Yellow shirt, blue pants, taller than me, with either silver hair and a crazy look in his eyes, or blond hair and a big, goofy smile. You seen anyone like that?” The gun wasn’t wavering.

“Yes. It looks like we’ll be arranging a prisoner exchange,” Lenalee said calmly, and then without warning rocketed towards the boy, who cursed and dodged, but for some reason didn’t fire. She thought he would be easy to catch, but he was surprisingly nimble. It was only after they were out of the alley that she realized he wasn’t alone, when a tiny blond girl popped up out of nowhere and tackled her, and the boy joined her.

“Don’t let her get away, Tsukumo! She knows where Yogi is,” the boy accused.

_That’s why he didn’t shoot me! He needs me alive. They have Kanda, but I don’t have the man they’re looking for, Yogi, to exchange him for. This boy will have to do._

She twisted midair, kicking the boy in the stomach, knocking him to the ground, sending his gun flying, and followed up with a feinted kick aimed at the girl. The girl was much faster than the boy, darting out of the way, but no more skilled, not realizing her goal had been the gasping boy. Lenalee grabbed him around the waist and rocketed into the air.

To Lenalee’s astonishment, the girl chased after her, flying nearly as fast as she was, until she accelerated to supersonic speed, and lost her with a loud cracking boom in the cloud cover above the City. The boy, recovering from having his breath forcibly knocked from his lungs, began struggling in her arms, but then abruptly stilled, likely realizing a fall from this altitude would kill him. Unlike his friend, she’d seen no indication he could fly, but it was possible he was merely hiding the ability. Maybe he just knew she was faster.

“Tell me where Kanda is, unless you want to be a smear on the cobblestone,” Lenalee threatened, doing her best to sound intimidating, trying to channel Kanda at his most ominous.

“Tch. Drop me and you’ll never find him,” the boy boldly challenged, either incredibly brave or frighteningly suicidal, if he truly couldn’t fly.

“Fine. Then I’ll just have to take you to Allen. He’ll make you talk.” Of course, he’d do it by turning those big, soulful eyes on him, not by torturing him, but the boy didn’t need to know that. His reaction, however, was completely unexpected.

“Allen? He’s still alive? He’s alright?” the boy asked, the former toughness gone, relief surprisingly in it its place.

“Why would you care? You don’t know him,” Lenalee claimed, but doubtfully.

“The Princesss… Kanda, I guess… was afraid Allen had died from his wounds. But he’s alright? That means I was right. You’ve got Yogi. You need to give him back to us. He’s sick, and needs to be treated. He’s really dangerous, without his medication. You want Kanda, and we want Yogi. Let’s trade.”

“But I have you, too. What if I trade you for Kanda instead?” Lenalee posed.

The boy scowled at her, his expression achingly similar to Kanda’s favorite glare. “Look, the truth is, I’m not even Ship’s crew. I’m not a valuable hostage, like Yogi is. I doubt Captain Hirato would trade your friend for me.”

Lenalee would have doubted the truth of his statement, except for the pain in his voice as he made the admission. She sighed. “Well, I hope you’re wrong. Because I don’t know where your friend Yogi is, and we want Kanda back. For both our sakes, I hope you’re important enough for them to make the trade.”

The boy in her arms stiffened. “How can you not know where Yogi is? He had Allen, and if Allen is free…” He paled. “You didn’t… Did you kill him?” he accused angrily, as if they wouldn’t have had every right to do so, after what he’d done to both Allen and Kanda. And possibly Lavi.

Lenalee swallowed hard, remembering the blood coating Lavi’s boots and pants. What if Lavi was badly wounded now too? “Your friend almost killed two of mine. Possibly three, now. I’d be within my rights to kill him for that, but we don’t kill humans,” she said stiffly, realizing her mistake immediately. Any threat she might make against him would be far less effective now.

“Unfortunately for you, we’re not so forgiving. Let Gareki go,” a cold voice demanded unexpectedly from behind her

Lenalee spun around and gasped. There were over a dozen people surrounding her, including both above and below, hovering in the air as if it was nothing, the little blond haired girl among them, who had apparently called her friends to help her search. Lenalee had no idea who had spoken. She had either been so intent on her conversation with the boy, Gareki, that she hadn’t seen them approach, or they’d flown up with remarkable speed. The fact that any of these people could fly at all was astonishing.

Instead of complying she bolted straight up, using Gareki like a battering ram to slam into the person above her. At least, that was her intent. Instead, she was tackled from three different directions and Gareki was torn out of her arms. She punched and kicked, frustratingly not landing a single blow, but in turn managing to block the ones aimed at her as well.

When she saw a split second opening she took it, blasting full speed into the temporary void. And falling directly into the trap laid by the tallest of the men and women attacking her, a handsome man dressed in tails and a top hat wearing wire-framed glasses, who reminded her painfully of Komui and appeared out of thin air in front of her, his fist slamming into her stomach before she had a chance to block or dodge, knocking the air from her lungs, leaving her conscious but gasping for breath, as her arms were wrenched behind her. Some sort of non-metallic fastener was clamped around her right wrist as they fought to secure her left as well, as the petite blond haired girl made the mistake of trying to bind her feet.

The power of Lenalee’s Innocence flared of its own accord, in defense of her, blasting aside not only the man who had punched her and those restraining her, but a good two thirds of the others circled around her. She was free!

She rocketed away, looking over her shoulder for signs of pursuit, but her erstwhile captors were too busy snatching falling compatriots out of the sky. She was almost out of earshot, hiding amidst the cover of the clouds, when she heard a young man’s voice thickly laced with concern demand, “Where’s Tsukumo?”

“Tsukumo! Do you see her?” an alarmed woman’s voice called.

“Does anyone have her?” a panicked third voice distantly asked.

“Did she take her?” a fourth accused, that one sounding like the boy she’d taken prisoner.

_Oh no!_ Lenalee dove straight down, looking around and barely spied the blond-haired girl plummeting at frightening speed towards the City below. She increased her speed and snatched the girl out of the sky just above the rooftops, even thought she realized this could well be a trap. But the girl remained limp in her arms, and Lenalee was alarmed at how pale she looked, and by the thin trickle of blood running down from her nose and ears. Belatedly, Lenalee realized it was the same girl who had been trying to restrain her feet, and that she had apparently taken the brunt of the power flare, when her Innocence protected her, both being injured by it and propelling her with sickening force and speed toward the ground.

Lenalee only knew of the one hospital. She didn’t want to risk leading these people to Allen, but she couldn’t risk this girl dying, either, and not only because Kanda was apparently their captive. She rose higher into the air to get her bearings and so her flight wouldn’t damage the City, and then took off at supersonic speed for the hospital, leaving a loud, cracking boom in her wake.

A short while later, after leaving the girl in the capable hands of the doctors, she returned to Allen’s room, hoping Lavi might be there, that he’d come to the hospital after finishing his battle.

“Lenalee! Did you find Kanda?” Allen asked anxiously.

“No, but he’s alive, and I sort of know where he is,” she hedged. _Or at least, who he’s with._ “Has Lavi come by?” she asked hopefully. Right now, he was the one who appeared to be in the greatest danger.

“Lavi? He’s here? In Ship’s Haven?” Allen asked, astonished. “Wait, but what about Kanda? Where is he?”

Lenalee sighed guiltily. “Apparently he was captured.”

At the look of abject horror on Allen’s face, she realized her mistake. “Not by the Earl, or the Akuma!” she quickly amended. “There’s some other group here, in the City. Powerful. Most of them can fly. They don’t seem to be evil, like the Earl, but the person who attacked you, Yogi, was one of their men. One of those people, a boy named Gareki, said Yogi’s just sick, that something’s wrong with him. It sounded like they might actually have rescued Kanda, although they’re holding him, and that he’s been worried about you.”

0 0 0

“Kanda? Worried about me?” Allen asked, surprised, about to deny it. But then he remembered Kanda had apparently been overwhelmed by the man who attacked them. Kanda was so powerful, so skilled, the only explanation Allen could think of for him being defeated was if he’d been distracted, and the most likely cause of that distraction would have been seeing how badly injured Allen had been. Which meant it was his fault Kanda had gotten hurt, again, because he was so weak. “You’re sure he’s alright?”

“It sounded like he was. Allen, I need to look for Lavi. He was fighting Yogi, and I need to make sure he’s alright. But there was a girl, she’s one of those people in that group, they called her Tsukumo, she was injured, so I brought her here. They might come here looking for her.” She bit her lip. “We sort of ended up fighting one another. Not just her, but a bunch of Yogi’s friends tried to capture me. They’re worried about their friend Yogi and thought we’d captured him. I was discussing a hostage exchange with Gareki, alone, when the others arrived and attacked me. Are you well enough to travel? It could be dangerous if we stay here.”

Allen immediately stood. He wasn’t about to endanger Lenalee the way he’d endangered Kanda. “I’m fine,” he claimed, putting the lie to his words as he crumpled.

Lenalee caught him and held him. “No you’re not. I’m going to carry you. We need to find someplace to stay, a hotel or boarding house. The _Reliable_ will likely be leaving port soon, heading to Eastbrook. They still have cargo to offload there. I’ll reclaim my things from there later. Lavi didn’t have anything but Hammer with him when we rescued him. ”

“Rescued? You need to tell me what happened, and I’ll tell you all I know about Kanda. Kanda! The hotel! Kanda and I actually already have a room, one of the only ones left vacant in the city. It’s in the Journey’s End, by the docks. The innkeeper’s name is Marlene. She’s really nice, but tough, and the customers there are a rough crowd. Even if one or more of those people come after us there, they’ll have a hard time getting past her. And she really liked me. She wanted to protect me from Kanda, before she knew we were friends. We’ll be safe there,” Allen explained, relieved he was able to help.

“That’s great. I’ll get us to the docks and you show me from there. No. Wait. We need to take a hansom cab or rent a carriage instead, and wear cloaks. If they see me flying, they’ll catch us. I’ll get you a wheeled chair. I’ll be right back.”

Allen waited anxiously, but fortunately Lenalee wasn’t gone long. She returned with two hooded cloaks she’d purchased from one of the nurses and the wheeled chair. She helped Allen into it and then rolled him to the front entrance. The hansom cab driver she flagged down fortunately knew the way to the Journey’s End, and they paid him extra to secure his promise not to tell anyone where they’d gone, if someone asked.

Lenalee had her arm around Allen, supporting him, as they walked into the inn. They were able to make it to the back of the common room without drawing much attention to themselves, until Marlene saw them.

“What happened to you, lad? It wasn’t that surly one who was with you that hurt you, was it?” she accused.

“No! We were both in a battle. This is our other friend, Lenalee. My name’s Allen. I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself before. The other man is Kanda. Please, if he comes back here, can you let him know we’re in the room? We’ll pay extra for Lenalee to share with us, and we’ll hang a blanket, if you could give us some rope,” Allen said.

“And if we could buy some food, as well. Allen needs to eat,” Lenalee added.

“You both look like you could use a meal. You head on up to the room. You already have the key. I’ll bring you up a tray,” Marlene said.

“Thank you,” Allen and Lenalee chorused in relief. Then Lenalee began helping him up the stairs.

“Wait a moment. Kevin!” she bellowed loudly, over the tumult of the room, and the man appeared in seconds, looking warily at the two of them.

“This sweet boy, Allen, has been hurt. Help him up the stairs. Carry him, if he’ll let you,” Marlene said.

“But Marlene…” Kevin pleaded, looking hesitantly in the direction of his left arm, which was under the cloak, but he’d seen it before and had thought him a monster because of it.

Marlene scowled at him. “Kevin Michael Williams, you should be ashamed of yourself! Are you a man, or a mouse? Surely you can’t truly be afraid of this sweet boy?” Marlene challenged.

Kevin’s hand went to the cross at his neck. Allen couldn’t believe how foolish it was. As an Exorcist, he was chosen by God, but this man equated him with a demon.

“It’s alright. I’m stronger than I look. We can manage,” Lenalee assured her, looking puzzled but indignant on Allen’s behalf.

“I’m sure you can, but I’ve more than a few pounds of muscle on you. Where are you hurt, Allen?” Marlene asked solicitously.

“Just my eye. Everything else is just bruises,” Allen admitted truthfully.

“Alright then,” Marlene said, and before Allen knew what she was planning, the woman lifted him up into her arms, as if he were a new bride, and began carrying him up the stairs, to the catcalls of a few of the patrons, whose attention had been drawn to the argument. Allen was completely mortified. _So much for being inconspicuous!_

She didn’t set him down until they’d reached the room door, and only once she was sure Lenalee had hold of him. Then she reached into the top of her dress and pulled a ring of keys out from between her breasts. She unerringly picked a key and opened the door. “I’ll be up with your food as soon as it’s ready, and the rope to split the room, though I think it’s a waste, with a beauty like this one here,” she said with a wink.

Allen felt his face heat and saw Lenalee blush as well.

Once they were inside the room, Lenalee made him lie down, as soon as he took off the cloak, and he settled onto the bed in relief.

“Now that your blush is gone, you’re looking really pale,” she said in concern.

“I’m a little dizzy,” Allen admitted. Actually, it was more than a little, but he didn’t want to worry Lenalee any worse than she already was.

“Will you be alright if after we eat I go out and look for Lavi?” she asked, sounding worried, probably about both of them.

“I’ll be fine. I told you Marlene likes me. Those people who attacked you are asking for trouble, if they try to capture me here. Why don’t you tell me everything that happened, while we’re waiting for the food, and I’ll tell you about me and Kanda,” Allen suggested. It would help both of them to talk about them, instead of just sitting here and worrying about them.

“Alright,” she agreed, to his relief.


	13. Breathless and Helpless

Hirato awoke groggily to a knifing pain in his chest and the sounds of chaos, frantic, familiar voices, and the realization that there were arms around him, supporting him, carrying him. He forced his eyes open, and saw Tsukitachi’s anxious face above him.

“Hirato! Are you alright now? I was just about to take you to your Ship, to Akari, with the other injured,” his friend said, his concern evidenced by the fact that he didn’t immediately set him down.

Not that there appeared to be anywhere to stand, Hirato belatedly realized. They seemed to be hovering far up in the sky, above the cloud cover, he discovered, as he dazedly took in his surroundings, his heartbeat accelerating, causing the pain in his chest to flare, as he saw the staggering number of injured crew members all around him, from both Ships: nearly every man of the two dozen or so who were aloft was carrying not one but two comrades. He saw in relief that though Gareki was there and in Kiichi’s arms, he couldn’t be too injured, from the way he was arguing, and maybe not injured at all, as he alone amongst them was unable to fly. Others, however, were ominously limp and still, Eva among them.

“What the bloody hell happened?” Hirato whispered, hardly the strong demand he’d intended, but for some reason, he couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Whatever it was, it must have only been moments ago, he realized, as he saw a few others recovering, even as he watched. He prised open Tsukitachi’s arms, intending to hover on his own, but then clung to him, as agony tore through his chest, and a wave of dizziness surged over him, almost felling him, literally, as his inhalation of pain became a choking gurgle, and he fought to breathe, coughing, alarmed to feel warm wetness on his chin, staring in consternation at the red streak on the palm of his white glove, after wiping his face with a shaking hand.

“ _Damn it._ You really are injured this time,” Tuskitachi swore. “I’m taking Hirato back to his Ship. The rest of you, those carrying a single person, hand off your burden to another, and join the search for Tsukumo. If the injuries look serious, come with me, otherwise head to Ship One. We don’t want to burden Akari with minor cases,” he called out to those around him, and the next moment they were flashing forward, the wind streaking against Hirato’s face.

_Tsukumo?_ A hazy memory surfaced, as Hirato fought to breathe. _Isn’t Yogi the one who’s missing?_ He hated that it was a question that he couldn’t even voice, that he wasn’t able to fly and join the search, that Tsukitachi was ordering about his crew and he wasn’t even chastising him for it. That he was bleeding internally and couldn’t even breathe, and didn’t know why.

“You could have just told me to let you go, you ass! It looks like you’ve got some broken ribs, and I think you might have just managed to puncture a lung, struggling like that,” Tsukitachi scolded.

Hirato could hear the concern bordering on fear in his voice, even as the giant hand crushing his chest squeezed harder, making Hirato’s vision both darken and spark.

“Thank heavens we’re near your Ship.”

Tsukitachi’s voice was ominously muffled. Then, in the next moment, the entry portal to the Ship surrounded them.

“Tsukitachi and Hirato, Command Emergency Security Override, Code: Tea Party.”

The Sheep, who otherwise wouldn’t have allowed even Hirato to enter without voiceprint verification, let them both enter, since the proper phrase was spoken in Tsukitachi’s voice, one that simultaneously ensured his next order to further bypass security protocols would be followed.

“Medical Emergency Override, Code: Calamity. Let any human who arrives enter without voiceprint identification or delay, and alert Sickbay we’ve got multiple incoming patients,” Tsukitachi ordered, his words barely intelligible to Hirato. Then Tsukitachi was rocketing down the corridor, not waiting to hear the acknowledgement of the order.

Hirato could barely hear through his gasping and choking that Tsukitachi was quietly berating him under his breath. He only caught bits and pieces of words here and there, until, with the sardonic realization that he was actually drowning in his own blood, full silence engulfed him.

0 0 0

Tsukitachi would have teased Akari about the way he paled when he saw Hirato, bloody and limp in his arms, if Hirato wasn’t so badly injured, this time. “He’s barely breathing! I think he broke some ribs and punctured and collapsed a lung. He was hit by a concussive blast, like the shockwave from an explosion,” Tsukitachi volunteered, trying to provide the maximum amount of information quickly, not wanting to waste an instant of time with questions, as he laid Hirato down on one of the examination beds, and Akari and his assistants converged.

Tsukitachi stood back, to let Akari perform his magic, telling himself his hands weren’t shaking because of fear for his friend, but because of the unspent adrenaline still slamming through his system. He belatedly realized he should have split the serious cases between the two Ships, now that the power was once again reliable on his own, but he was so used to relying on Akari to work miracles that he hadn’t thought it through, and he reminded himself that Hirato’s lips hadn’t been bloody or turning blue when he’d issued the order.

Fortunately, only two other patients were brought in to the Sickbay, one of them Eva, but neither was in nearly the dire straits Hirato was. They were both unconscious, but breathing easily, their vital signs strong, the other medical personnel assured him.

He needed to leave, to lead the search for Tsukumo, and Yogi, but he couldn’t, not until he knew Hirato would be alright. He knew he would be, that Akari wouldn’t let him die, that a collapsed lung in the field and in a Ship were two entirely different things, but still, this was Hirato, and his face had been bloody and his lips blue, and he couldn’t _breathe_. The shaking intensified, making it almost impossible to stand, and in the next moment one of the medics was at his side.

He tried to wave the man away, insisting the blood on his shirt was Hirato’s, that he was fine, but he was told he was in shock. The pronouncement would have been preposterous, except Tsukitachi feared it was all too true. He was frozen in place, unable to move, unable to think past the fact that his best friend had been gasping and gurgling for air and gone limp, that he could actually have died in his arms. What if there were other injuries, his heart or liver, what if altogether the damage was too severe for even Akari to save him?

“Captain?”

Hearing the concern and hesitation in Jiki’s voice, which was normally filled with confidence, helped Tsukitachi pull himself together. Jiki hadn’t been the one to bring in the other man or Eva. Why was he here? “Have you found Tsukumo or Yogi?”

“No sir. One of the medics called and suggested either Kiichi or I come, and she’s got her hands full with Gareki.” It was painfully obvious Jiki was on unfamiliar ground, as unused to seeing him all but nonfunctional as he was to being that way.

_Damn._ Tsukitachi straightened his jacket, the glaring bloodstain on his white shirt giving him pause only for a moment. “Right. I’m going to go back to our Ship, to take charge of and coordinate the search from there. We’re going to have to have both Ships break cloud cover, even with our invisibility cloaks still unreliable. I’m hoping the Ships’ cameras and sensors might pick one or both of them up. I don’t want Gareki leaving whichever Ship he’s on, but I know that’s not realistic. So I want you and Kiichi to watch him like a hawk. That girl targeted him once already, and I am _not_ going to lose him, too. We have enough to explain to Hirato, when he wakes up.”

“Yes sir!” Jiki replied crisply, with his familiar alertness and confidence, all the uncertainty gone.

Tsukitachi turned to the nearest medic. “You’re to keep me apprised of Captain Hirato’s condition,” he ordered.

“Yes sir!”

With one last look at the cluster of people blocking Hirato from his view, Tsukitachi turned and left Sickbay.

0 0 0

“… you that good luck comes to those who wait. To hell with the treaty! We never should have signed it in the first place. There’s no way we’re giving _this_ Exorcist to the Earl, especially not after that crazy old fool almost destroyed all our carefully laid plans. We need to be the ones to keep this weapon and learn how to control it. The Earl would just crush it to dust, looking for the Heart. But if we can add this hammer’s power to our storm generator, we can disrupt shipping across this entire ocean, maybe even the hemisphere,” an ominous voice plotted eagerly.

Lavi listened to the stranger discussing his fate in horror, even though it didn’t sound like they were going to hand him over to the Millennium Earl, that whoever had captured him was actually betraying the terms of some treaty they’d made with him. Those idiots had no idea who they were dealing with, what the Millennium Earl was capable of, or they’d never contemplate betraying him.

Lavi had never felt so helpless in his life. Fortunately, from his years of training with Bookman, when he’d returned to consciousness hearing a voice, he’d automatically frozen and not betrayed any signs of wakefulness. Bookmen often spied on others that way, listening to all sorts of secrets. But seldom ones of this import.

Assessing his condition carefully, the way he’d been taught, Lavi was discouraged to find he felt dizzy, lightheaded and weak, but worst of all, that he was unable to move. His hands were bound behind his back, but it didn’t feel like it was rope holding him, and his legs and feet were bare and bound, though thankfully his chest and groin were covered. It felt like he was wearing a gi, a pair of briefs, and nothing else. He resisted the impulse to begin working on his restraints, for fear his captors would realize he was conscious. In addition to losing this opportunity to gain valuable intelligence to be used against them, he was certain they wouldn’t hesitate to torture him to try to gain Hammer’s power, from what they had said.

“But more importantly, we’ll finally be able to blast those damned Circus Ships out of the sky. If a few bolts of lightning from this hammer were able to nearly cripple both Ships, just imagine what it can do in concert with our machinery,” the man continued gleefully.

_Lightning? Blast the Circus Ships out of the sky? Does that mean Circus has Ships that can **fly**?_ With a guilty jolt, Lavi remembered the half dozen additional bolts of lightning that discharged into the sky, as if drawn by some unseen target. _Did I accidentally disable their Ships while attacking that silver-haired Akuma?_

“You can have all the fun you want getting the Exorcist to cooperate. This is the prize I want. To think, our missing little Prince Yogi would be so obligingly returned to us! As soon as he wakes up we can learn all the secrets he’s been privy to, as part of Circus. I can’t wait to turn one of their most trusted comrades against them, to use him as a tool for their destruction,” a second voice replied with manic delight.

_Yogi? They captured Nai’s friend Yogi, too? What are they going to do to him to turn him against Circus?_

“Comrades…. That’s perfect! You just gave me an excellent idea. From what we heard there are three other Exorcists in this city. I doubt that fat old fool has caught any of them, let alone all of them. We need to find and catch another Exorcist, and then torture him in front of this one. These soft and pathetic humans are all alike. They’ll do anything to protect their friends, even if it gets someone else killed,” the owner of the first voice plotted.

That answered some of Lavi’s questions and sparked a whole slew of new ones. These men – or whatever they were, because from what they were saying, they didn’t sound like humans, but they certainly weren’t Akuma, the way they talked about the Millennium Earl so blasphemously – definitely weren’t on the side of God and his Exorcists. It sounded like they were Circus’s enemies. Nai had called the Akuma Varuga. Were these Varuga? A different kind of monster, but just as dangerous as Akuma?

_Damn it! And I crippled Circus’s Ships and left them vulnerable to attack._ A sudden realization shook him. _Did I kill anyone in those Ships?_ At one time he wouldn’t have cared, but now Lavi’s stomach turned at the thought of killing innocent humans, particularly ones that fought against monsters, Akuma and others like them, the Varuga. _Nai! Was he onboard one of those Ships? Did I kill Nai? Or his friend Gareki? Or that man Nai said was like a father to him, Karoku?_

“So why did you stitch the wounds on his legs instead of cutting them off? It would certainly make it harder for him to escape if you had, wouldn’t it?” the second voice proposed.

Lavi fought not to visibly react to his words, to struggle against his bonds, at the thought of them maiming him.

“Why waste such promising raw material? Instead, we’ll turn him, the way we turned the Prince,” the first voice replied smugly. “We’ll keep him human for now, though. Injecting him with Cradle cells might have an adverse effect upon his control of his weapon. We don’t want to do anything to jeopardize the potential of our controlling it.”

_They’re going to turn me into a monster? They turned Yogi into one? Wait! That Akuma I was fighting? Don’t tell me **that** was Nai’s Yogi? And these bastards captured him, too? He’s here, in the same room with me? If he’s conscious, he must be in the same predicament I am._

“We can turn him after we’re done with him. And the other Exorcist we capture too. Then we can set them out as bait for the Earl, and watch the show. Maybe they’ll be able to finally get that annoying old man out of our way, and we won’t have a need for that preposterous truce anymore. We’ll be able to expand into all the smaller cities and larger towns we want, without worrying about stepping on that fat buffoon’s toes. This world is rightfully ours, so it’s inevitable that we’ll take him out sooner or later. I’d rather it be right now, before he gets any more powerful. We’d have done it already, if a war between us wouldn’t weaken us more than we can risk. But if we don’t act soon, someday he might actually become a true threat, instead of a difficult annoyance.”

They weren’t just going to turn _him_ into a monster. They were going to catch Allen or Lenalee and torture them, and then turn one of them into a monster too!

He needed to get out of here, as quickly as possible. A quote sprang to mind, one Bookman had taught him: _“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”_ Could Yogi actually be a friend, or at least an ally, even after they’d fought one another? Did the bizarre change of his hair color from silver to blond and the softening of his features somehow signify he wasn’t a monster now? Something like the way Allen’s Innocence arm changed, when he fought Akuma, or his eye? Would Yogi be willing to fight alongside him, to protect his friends, and to get revenge for them turning him into a monster, or would Yogi take revenge on him instead, for fighting and injuring him, and attacking their Ships?

There was the sound of a door opening. “You’re sure they’re secure?”

“They won’t be going anywhere, even after they wake up, and the others will keep an eye on them. You and I have another Exorcist to catch. I think we should…” The door closed, cutting off their plans.

As soon as he was certain they were gone, Lavi opened his eyes, just slits at first, until he was as sure as possible it was safe, in case those other they’d mentioned were in the room. He turned his head and saw the Akuma… Varuga… the man he’d fought, Yogi, lying bound to what looked like a hospital bed beside him. His eyes widened as he saw Yogi’s accusing violet eyes were open, that he was looking directly at him, glaring.

To Lavi’s astonishment, the bindings lashing Yogi’s arms to his chest and the bed and those around his legs fell away as if by magic, and he rolled off the bed and advanced on him, a pair of swords suddenly materializing in his hands, though Lavi had no idea where they came from. Yogi was dressed as he was, in a gi, though he was wearing pants, as well. So his own legs were apparently bare because they were bandaged.

“You attacked our Ships! Why would you help Kafka? Don’t you realize how evil they are? Did you hear them? They plan to capture and torture one of your friends, to turn him into a Varuga!”

Even though he was obviously furious, his voice was nothing like before. Then it had been cruel, like a boy who enjoyed tearing wings off of flies or tying kittens in a bag and drowning them. Now he sounded compassionate and afraid not only for his own friends, but apparently for Lavi’s as well.

“I didn’t attack your Ships. Not intentionally, at least. If I damaged them, it was because I was attacking you and apparently hit them too, by mistake,” Lavi defended verbally, unable to defend himself any other way, bound and weaponless. He didn’t know where Hammer was, but it certainly wasn’t strapped to his thigh as it should have been.

Yogi frowned, a look confusion on his face. “You attacked me? But why would you… “ The confusion was replaced by fear and dismay. “Oh no. It happened again, didn’t it?” he asked, suddenly pale. “I didn’t hurt anyone did I?” His voice was pleading now, frantic.

“What, you’re trying to tell me you don’t remember blinding Allen, crippling me and almost killing us both?” Lavi scoffed, astonished at the man’s audacity.   

Yogi’s arms fell limp at his sides, the swords dissolving away as if they’d never existed. “I _blinded_ someone?” he whispered, horrified. “And I _crippled_ you?” Astonishingly, his eyes welled with tears.

Remarkably, Lavi felt guilty for saying what he had. “You blinded his left eye, but he’ll still be able to see out of his right,” he conceded. “And actually, if he’s lucky, he’ll recover from it, the way he did before.” If he lived, though somehow, he couldn’t say that to him, and not just because Lavi didn’t want to even think Allen might not. “And I think my legs should heal, since it sounds like they actually stitched my wounds,” he admitted.

He was relieved both legs hurt like hell, actually. He knew if he kept that tourniquet on too long without periodically loosening it to restore the blood flow that the tissue could die, that he could need to have it amputated. The thought of losing a leg was almost more frightening than the thought of dying. Even in the worst of the battles he’d fought, he’d somehow never really thought he would actually die. Although this last one had been exceptionally grim.

“We don’t have much time. They might be monitoring this room. Untie me and I’ll help you escape,” Lavi proposed. He wouldn’t leave without Hammer, of course, but Yogi didn’t need to know that. He swallowed hard. And Mugen, he remembered, in horror, any sympathy he’d started to feel for Yogi burnt to ash, but he bit his tongue back on the question he had to ask. Had Yogi actually killed Yu? Would he even remember if he had? It had sounded as if he didn’t remember they had fought.

A smaller, more slender version of the sword formed in Yogi’s hand, a knife, and Yogi obediently cut through the binding around Lavi’s hands and feet, and the others, the ones tying him down to the bed. He couldn’t risk confronting Yogi now, when he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to walk without his assistance. But after they were free, he’s make Yogi remember what he’d done to Yu. He knew just about every torture method developed by man, thanks to all the books he’d read. He’d been fascinated by the topic, as a child, the cruelty of man, though he’d lost his faith in mankind far before then. Not too long ago he’d viewed everyone but him and Bookman as nothing more than eventual traitors to humanity, raw materials for the Earl to make Akuma with. The exact same words as that man had used to describe him, only moments ago.

If Yogi had killed Yu, or Allen, it wasn’t truly his fault. It was the fault of these bastards, for turning him into a monster. Lavi would kill them, and then put Yogi out of his misery, the same as he would do for an Akuma.

0 0 0

_Why can’t I remember? Why does this happen?_ Yogi thought, even as he touched his bare cheek guiltily. _Why do I always forget my medicine? It’s because I don’t trust Dr. Akari, isn’t it?_ He felt a disturbing churning of anger as he dropped his hand away, but just then, his eyes lit upon his wrist, the pink leather bracelet Gareki had won for him. The emergency patch! The one with Gareki’s picture on it!

Yogi unbuckled the bracelet in eager hope, relieved they hadn’t taken it or his Circus bracelet from him. And there, taped securely to the inside of the leather with clear tape, the part that laid against his wrist, was his emergency patch, one of the new ones Akari had given him, just after they left Germany, the one with the picture of Gareki’s face on the package. _Gareki-kun would never hurt me._

He untaped it and pulled open the package, careful not to damage the picture, hoping the patch itself also had a picture of Gareki. Yogi looked at the new patch in surprise and smiled. It didn’t have Gareki’s picture, but it was pink, the same shade as the bracelet! He eagerly peeled off the backing and applied the new patch, not to his cheek this time, where his captors might easily see and remove it, but on his wrist. Then he held his arm against his side, struggling to rebuckle the bracelet, to cover the patch.

“What is that?” the handsome red-haired boy asked him suspiciously.

Yogi looked up to tell him and swallowed hard. He had one, beautiful though mistrustful green eye, but a patch over where his right eye should have been. _Blind in one eye. Like his friend Allen is now. Because of me._ Yogi felt his own eyes fill with tears again.

“Stop that! Never mind. Here, let me help. We need to get moving,” the boy unexpectedly offered, touching Yogi’s precious bracelet before he realized what the boy was doing, his deft fingers fastening it easily.

Yogi should have resented him for touching it without permission, but his slender fingers had been surprisingly gentle, and his touch soothing, when his fingers brushed against his wrist. “Thank you. Can you stand? Do you need help?” Yogi offered, hating how his voice quavered with guilt.

In response the boy slid carefully off the bed, putting his weight on his feet slowly, hissing and grimacing in pain, and swaying weakly, as he braced himself upright, his hands digging into the thin pad on the bed. “Yeah, I think I’m going to need your…”

Just then, the door unexpectedly swung open, and Yogi spun to face it. His eyes widened at the two hulking strangers in the doorway, and he immediately materialized his swords. “Stay behind me! I’ll protect you!” he ordered, as he sprang at them. _It’s my fault he’s been injured and is unable to defend himself. I wont’ let them hurt him!_

Both men transformed instantly, into monstrous Varuga.

Yogi hated killing, but he’d done so before, to protect the innocent, and he would protect this boy now. _If we die here, who will warn Circus about that storm creator those others described?_ The thought that they might be able to incapacitate or even destroy both Ships was all the incentive Yogi needed to fight, even if he hadn’t had the boy to protect.

Fortunately, the confined space worked to Yogi’s advantage, as he darted up to the ceiling and unleashed his Dornen Kiste on them, further confining them, even as he did so wondering why Kafka hadn’t taken his Circus ID from him. They must have signal jammers set up, so the homing transmitter wouldn’t work, or he’d have been rescued by now, but he could still use its power to fight.

He lunged down upon the trapped and struggling Varuga without hesitating, with uncharacteristic ruthlessness, and dispatched both monsters with almost contemptuous ease. Then he turned to the boy, to make sure he was safe, and to his horror saw him stiffen, into a pitiful protective stance, as he fought to stand.

“No, it’s alright! I won’t hurt you!” Yogi swore, dissolving the vines and his swords instantly, belatedly realizing both were the weapons he’d likely used to injure the boy’s legs before. “Please, if you let me help you, we can get to safety, before others come,” he urged. He wanted to just scoop him up and carry him, but he’d likely struggle even worse than Gareki, if he tried.

The boy shook his head. “We can’t leave yet, not until I recover Hammer and Mugen. They’re not here, but I can sense Hammer. It’s nearby, or I wouldn’t be able to. I’m hoping Mugen is there too.”

“Hammer and Mugen?” He called one of them “it”, so Yogi didn’t think they were people.

“My weapon, and my friend’s,” the boy explained impatiently, with an accusing glare.

_The other must be Allen’s._ “You’re right. We can’t let them use your weapons against Circus,” Yogi agreed. “I’ll carry you. You just tell me which way to fly, and leave the fighting to me.”

“ I can still fight,” the boy grumbled.

“I didn’t mean… What’s your name? I’m Yogi,” he volunteered.

“Lavi.”

“That’s a perfect name for you! It sounds like lava, beautiful, fiery bright red, like your hair,” Yogi said, as he headed for him.

Lavi looked startled for a moment, and then suspicious, but didn’t protest when Yogi picked him up bridal style, though he stiffened in his arms as he flew him across the room, to the door.

The rest of the building beyond the medical room they’d been in appeared to be some sort of warehouse, a large, enclosed windowless space with a high ceiling, rows of metal racks, and wooden crates stacked everywhere. Yogi had been afraid there would be corridors with security cameras and guards, but the place fortunately seemed pretty low tech, save for the medical room, possibly as much as Ships’s Haven had been, one of the cities with a more Victorian levels of technology, rather than Industrial Revolution level, or one of the Modern cities of the world. This one still had horses and sailing ships as the mode of travel. Which is why they had kept their Ships so carefully above cloud cover, so they wouldn’t panic the civilians when they weren’t cloaked.

He’d need to find a window or door to escape through at some point, since tearing through a wall would no doubt cause every Varuga in the vicinity to come running. But first, they needed to find the missing weapons.

 “Head right, down that aisle. Hammer’s that way,” Lavi ordered, a trace of mortification in his voice. But at least he wasn’t hitting him. Yet.

Yogi continued to follow Lavi’s directions, even as he wondered how he knew where to go, past dozens and dozens of crates, until they entered what looked like a machine shop. Here, like in the medical room, the equipment was far more modern. Lavi didn’t seem surprised by any of it, so he apparently came from one of the higher technology areas of the world too, or had at least visited one.

“There!” Lavi cried out in relief.

Yogi was surprised when he pointed to a metal table holding a tiny, unimpressive looking hammer, and what appeared to be a Japanese katana. As soon as he reached the table, Lavi bent over and snatched up the hammer. Then he reached for the sword and cursed, yanking his hand away. Yogi was shocked to see a neat slice through the bandages wrapped around his hand, on his palm, welling fresh blood. _But the blade is still in its sheath! How did it cut him?_

“Damn it! We don’t have time for this. Yogi, see if you can pick it up. You were able to hold Mugen before, but I’m not sure it will work now that you’re not… now,” Lavi finished lamely.

_I held this sword?_ Yogi reached for it cautiously and picked it up gingerly, relieved when it didn’t seem to have any inclination to harm him.

“ _Damn it._ Either it’s because you’re… different, like the Akuma and the Earl, or because God has decided you should be the new Accommodator for Mugen. Which would mean that… No. Kanda’s still alive. He has to be,” Lavi insisted to himself. But he didn’t sound convinced, or hopeful. He sounded desperate.

Yogi wasn’t sure what Lavi was talking about, but now was not the time to ask. “Come on. We need to go quickly,” he urged, tucking the sheathed sword into his belt, and then tightening his grip on Lavi, as he flew back into the main part of the warehouse.

“There, near the roof,” Lavi pointed, and Yogi exhaled in relief when he saw the small windows high above them. Hopefully they’d be just big enough to squeeze through.

“Hey you! No you don’t!” a rough voice yelled, and suddenly a loud, metallic alarm bell began ringing. Yogi shot towards the ceiling of the building, towards the windows, and freedom, but he was tackled midair, and Lavi torn from his arms.

“Dornen Kiste!” he cried, entangling the Varuga who had attacked in his vines, as he materialized his swords, looking frantically for Lavi, afraid he’d see him unconscious or worse on the floor, astonished to instead find him grinning, swinging down a long pole that hadn’t been in the warehouse moments ago, reaching the floor safely. The pole unexpectedly vanished, but then an enormous hammer was in his hands, one he shouldn’t possibly be able to lift, let alone swing like a war hammer as he was, into the charging pack of Varuga that was approaching him. _He’s incredible!_

Yogi’s attention was brought forcefully back to his own opponents a moment later, and again, he fought more brutally than usual, relieved to see Lavi could defend himself, but still eager to aid him, knowing the wounds on his legs left him barely able to stand, and unable to walk, and weaker than he should be.

In a split second break in the battle against his foes, he darted a glance to Lavi and was alarmed to see that, as he feared, Lavi was already panting, leaning against the handle of his hammer, the head of which was resting on the ground, somehow using it to hold himself upright, though the head didn’t appear to be braced against anything. Worse, the once glaring white bandages that sheathed Lavi’s legs were now soaked through in places with fresh blood.

Yogi slammed a thorned spear through the neck of the Varuga he was facing with unaccustomed brutality and flew for Lavi, just as another hulking monster swung a huge, studded fist at the back of his head. “Lavi!” Yogi yelled in warning. To his horror the boy swung his gaze towards him, instead of towards the danger. But fortunately, the simple act of turning his head was apparently too much for his weakened body, and he lost his balance, his entire body twisting, slumping to the floor as his legs gave out. The fist instead hit the handle of the hammer, and astonishingly, instead of knocking it over, the Varuga screamed, and cradled his arm, howling as if the hammer head had smashed his hand instead.

In the next instant, the hammer shrank down to the weapon they had rescued from the room, and Lavi slid it under the belt of his gi, as Yogi reached him, a moment before Lavi fell unconscious in his arms. Yogi surrounded them with a protective thicket of thorny vines and then rocketed to the ceiling, to the window, using vines to shatter it and then dissolving them away so he could fit through the narrow window frame, protecting Lavi with his own body as he flew them through it, some of the glass shards and twisted metal of the frame raking his arms as he burst through. _Lavi needs a doctor!_

Yogi looked around frantically at the rooftops around him and was relieved when he recognized the city around them. _We’re still in Ship’s Haven!_ He’d been terrified they’d brought them somewhere else, but the Ships should still be above the cloud cover. He just needed to reach the Ships, and they’d be safe.


	14. Patients and Impatience

As desperately as he needed to drink it, Akari set the cup of hot coffee down abruptly, before he burned himself. His hand had been shaking too wildly to risk it, considering the cup was full nearly to the rim, and the contents steaming. Instead, he allowed himself to quietly fall apart, now that Hirato no longer needed him to live, now that he’d been unhooked from the respirator and could once again breathe on his own, though the oxygen mask would stay on for a while. He was certain Hirato would attempt to remove it the moment he regained consciousness. If he ever did. And if he still retained the use of his arms.

Akari’s hands shook more wildly, at the thought of the potential quadraplegia Hirato might yet have to face, from loss of blood pressure and the resultant lack of oxygen to his spinal column, how all the frustrating and annoying manifestations of Hirato’s devilish, rakish charm might become only a memory, knowing every endearing, graceful movement of his once powerful body might be forever stilled.

They’d needed to keep his blood pressure low, as Akari repaired the damaged aorta, or it would have torn completely away from his heart, but not as low as it had been. The most terrifying moment of Akari’s life was when he remembered that they’d exhausted nearly their entire supply of Hirato’s rare and exotic blood type, Rh-null, on the Exorcist who ultimately hadn’t even needed it. In desperation, they’d captured and recycled as much of Hirato’s own blood as they could, to supplement their meager supply, and then he’d remembered the pint of blood he’d taken from the Exorcist for research purposes, while he was still unconscious, though fully recovered. He’d ordered Anna to bring it to him, knowing without it, Hirato would die on the operating table, in his hands, knowing he likely still would. But thankfully, that precious pint and the recycled blood supplemented by plasma had been barely enough to see him through the surgery. 

Akari leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling light, to force the image of Hirato choking on his own blood from his mind, though he was certain he’d see that haunting image again and again, when he next tried to sleep, which wouldn’t be for a while, even exhausted as he was. He was completely mentally, physically, emotionally and spiritually drained, and he hadn’t even believed in God until today, when he found himself begging Him to help him save Hirato.

Hirato had nearly died. He yet might. The damage had been far more extensive than even Tsukitachi had likely feared, though his face had been a pasty white contrast to the bluish tint of Hirato’s, and when he told him the cause of the damage, his voice had been shaking: blast trauma. Even Akari hadn’t been prepared for the severity and extent of Hirato’s injuries, in spite of all the classes he’d taken, medical journals he’d read, and field cases he’d treated, since joining Ship Two, and back when he was first interning: traumatic aortic rupture, flail chest, traumatic hemopneumothorax, sternal fracture...

The mental list was blessedly interrupted as his door crashed open, and Tsukitachi tore into the room, red-faced with rage, “What the hell do you mean, ‘alive, for now’! How could you… you’re _crying_.” His tirade abruptly broke off as astonishment filled his voice.

Akari lifted his hand to his face and wiped his cheek, staring at the clear wetness on his fingertips, dazed. For a horrifying moment he’d expected to see red, Hirato’s blood, or his own. He was almost surprised not to: it certainly felt like he was dying. “Yes, I suppose I am,” he admitted, only mildly disturbed by how eerily detached and calm his voice sounded, when there was a voice trapped and screaming inside his mind, one he refused to acknowledge as his own.

“But… but you treated him. He should be alright,” Tsukitachi said lamely, as he fell into the chair in front of Akari’s desk, the one Akari had specifically purchased because it was the most uncomfortable one he could find, to discourage unwanted visitors from staying. Hirato. He’d bought it for Hirato.

How many other actions in his life revolved around that infuriating man? _All of them,_ the screaming, sobbing voice in his head whispered _. God. I’m losing my mind._ _Please, You can have my mind, as long as I still have Hirato,_ he bargained, freezing in shock at the outrageous, alien thought.

“Akari? What…? Talk to me. _Tell me_ ,” Tsukitachi pleaded.

Hearing Tsukitachi beg instead of demand was enough to focus Akari’s attention onto him, and he struggled to recall what Tsukitachi had said. _Ah._ “Yes, I operated.” _For eight hours._ “I repaired all the damage I could.” _It wasn’t enough._ “The blunt trauma to the chest caused a number of injuries.” _Too many, too severe._ “He’ll be bedridden and then in physical therapy for months.” _Assuming he can move._ “His aorta, the large artery leading from the heart, tore away from his heart.” _Traumatic aortic rupture, mortality rate 90%._ “He fractured his sternum and ten ribs in twenty-three places, causing both a collapsed lung and a condition where a segment of the rib cage separates from the chest wall and moves independently in opposition to the rest of the rib cage when breathing.” _Sternal fracture, mortality rate 45%, multiple rib fractures, flail chest, mortality rate 50%, hemopneumothorax, mortality rate... Stop it!_

Akari didn’t realize he’d screamed the final two words aloud, to silence the detached, clinical voice in his head, until he saw Tsukitachi jump, and look at him as if he was actually afraid, either of him or for him, he wasn’t sure which. He was saved from finding out when once again, his door swung open unexpectedly. Before he could berate whoever it was for failing to knock, Anna burst into the room. “Dr. Akari, Yogi’s approaching the Ship, with someone in his arms, and they both appear to be wounded!” Anna reported breathlessly.

“What color is Yogi’s hair?” Akari demanded, as he jumped to his feet and headed for the door, wiping the remaining tears from his face, almost laughing aloud at how absurd the question would sound to anyone who was unaware of Yogi’s medical condition. He certainly would have sounded even more like a madman to Tsukitachi, had he laughed, knowing how wild it would have sounded. He refused to ask whether it was ‘Silver Yogi’ who was approaching, as Tsukitachi had coined the young man’s aggressive alter ego. Doing so only gave validity to the other personality, as if it were truly a second entity, and not a fracture of Yogi’s tormented psyche.

Tsukitachi flew past them, not waiting for the answer, and Akari felt his heart rate spike in fear. He already had two new patients, two more than he could bear. He truly would become a gibbering madman if Tsukitachi was injured as well, fighting Yogi, but he was already running as fast as he could.

“Blond, though I have no idea why. I thought you always needed to treat Yogi, for him to be able to function again in his normal state, after he has one of his episodes,” Anna replied clinically, as they raced down the corridor, towards the ship’s entryway.

“Until recently I did. But if he fell unconscious, reverted back, and then actually used that damned emergency patch I gave him, he should be able to maintain his true form until the medicine runs out, with the intent, of course, that I treat him before that happens,” he replied.

To Akari’s shock, Yogi appeared in the corridor in front of them, flying towards them, a redhead held limply in his arms. For a horrifying moment, Akari thought was Tsukitachi, until he saw it wasn’t, though he looked enough like him to be his younger brother.

An additional worry surfaced. Yogi should have needed his authorization to override Ship’s security to allow an unconscious stranger onboard, for a medical emergency, and Tsukitachi wouldn’t have been able to reach the portal fast enough to account for Yogi being all the way here. Had those damned Sheep disabled the security measures of the entry portal as well? And where was Tsukitachi? What had Yogi done to him?

“Doctor, you have to help Lavi-kun! His wounds reopened, while we were fighting the Varuga!” Yogi begged, thankfully apparently in his right mind once more. Which made one of them.

Akari almost ordered them both to quarantine, until he realized Yogi must mean the Akuma, who from what Tsukitachi had told him earlier, weren’t true Varuga at all. As if the Varuga weren’t enough of a threat, and they needed another foe as well!

“Where’s…” the question died in his throat when to his relief Akari saw Tsukitachi flying toward them, appearing unharmed. He only hoped it was true. “This way,” Akari commanded, leading the way. For once, Yogi didn’t seem frightened of him, apparently too worried about his new friend to care.

Yogi laid the half naked man down on the examination table, and Akari began checking his vital signs, scowling. “His blood pressure’s dangerously low, more than the blood on these bandages should account for, apparently from when he was first injured. Anna, draw a blood sample and analyze it, we’ll have a match in storage, unless he’s Rh-null. We need to transfuse him. Do you know how recently his injury was, what happened, Yogi?” he asked.

Yogi’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s from when I attacked him, from what he told me. Kafka stitched and bandaged his wounds, but they must not have given him blood.”

Akari felt his own blood freeze. “Kafka? What do you mean, Kafka?”

“We were captured by them, and woke up in one of their medical facilities,” Yogi replied.

“Damn it! Why the hell didn’t you say that immediately? Anna, sound the quarantine alarm and seal this room for possible Cradle and Incure cell contamination,” he ordered, as he belatedly slipped on a surgical mask and a pair of latex gloves, yelling at the others to do the same, even knowing how futile it was.

“It’s alright,” Yogi assured them, preventing Anna from hitting the panic button. “They didn’t inject him with Cradle cells yet, though they were planning to. I overheard them say they were afraid he might no longer be able to control his weapon, and they wanted to use it to boost the power of their storm generator. Where is Captain Hirato? I need to report everything I learned.”

“Doctor?” Anna asked.

“Alright, belay that order. No quarantine,” Akari agreed, after studying Yogi carefully.

Anna breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’ll have to report to Tsukitachi, or to Eva, Yogi. She’s acting Captain of Ship Two, now that she’s recovered,” Akari reported coolly, as he hooked up an IV to the unconscious boy’s arm, as if saying the words wasn’t tearing at something deep in his heart. _Hirato almost **died**._

“Recovered? What do you mean acting Captain? What happened to Captain Hir… He wasn’t _killed_?” Yogi demanded, appalled, his face paling.

“No, of course not. Yogi, you need to calm down. And you need to apply that patch I gave you,” Akari ordered, cursing himself for his inability to communicate properly. But no one had ever praised him for his bedside manner. His only poor grades in school and interning had been in regards to that, which is why he had specialized first in surgery, and then in research. Neither a surgeon nor a researcher needs to show compassion, however contrived, artificial and calculated.

He expected an immediate protest from Yogi, as he began unwinding the bandages from the boy’s legs.

Akari was surprised when Yogi instead replied. “I already did. I’m fine.”

“You’re _not_ fine. It’s not on your cheek, Yogi,” Akari argued, losing control of his already strained temper, welcoming the anger, in place of the debilitating fear and what he’d astonishingly labeled as grief, which he’d previously been drowning in.

“No, I hid it under my bracelet instead, so those Kafka agents wouldn’t see it and remove it, although they didn’t even take my Circus ID.”

“Yogi, take them both off and toss them into the hazardous waste containment unit now! They might have booby-trapped them, and let you escape!” Akari ordered in conern and exasperation that Yogi hadn’t been suspicious himself.

Yogi clutched the bracelet protectively. “No! It’s a present from Gareki!”

“Damn it, it’s only a stasis field, it won’t hurt it, but it will keep it from exploding, or do you want your new friend to die?” Akari threatened, seeing Tsukitachi about to attack Yogi from behind.

Yogi’s eyes widened and he paled and shockingly obediently took off the bracelet and ID, fortunately just before Tsukitachi acted, from the way he’d tensed. Tsukitachi snatched up both and tossed them into the containment unit, breathing a heavy sigh of relief when the field activated, without any apparent ill effect.

Akari was both surprised and relieved to see Yogi had been telling the truth, that he was indeed wearing the new pink patch. Apparently imprinting the package with Gareki’s face and making the bandage itself the same shade of pink as his bracelet had worked to influence Yogi as he’d hoped it might. Gareki was the only one silver-haired Yogi had never attacked. Yogi had even thrown Nai across the room, once, to everyone’s shock.

“I need to report to Eva everything that happened and everything I learned, as well as to you, Captain Tsukitachi. May I use your communicator, Doctor?” Yogi asked politely, with none of the usual fear he exhibited towards him _._

_Is that a result of the patch he’s wearing? Is it not fully suppressing his alternate personality?_ Unlike Yogi’s dominant personality, the other didn’t seem to be afraid of Akari, or even to particularly dislike him.

Sudden hope flared. _Could it perhaps have an unexpected but positive additional effect? Could it actually be successfully merging the two?_

They’d done all the clinical testing they could on the new compound they’d synthesized, without trying out the new drug on a live human – or mostly human – patient. Akari had known there would likely be effects or side effects that had not been intended. But normally luck worked against them, in that regard, and chaos had a tendency to reign.

“Fine. But also, report that there’s something wrong with security at the entry portal, that the Sheep allowed a stranger in without voiceprint recognition or the emergency override medical code,” Akari added, miraculously remembering his earlier concern.

“Actually, that was my fault. I’ve already taken care of it. I’d disabled the protocol before, when everyone was injured, and forgot to re-enable it,” Tsukitachi admitted sheepishly. “Come with me, Yogi. Akari will let you know when you can visit your friend.”

“First take Yogi into Treatment Room 2 and have Gregory bandage his arms, and check him for other injuries,” Akari ordered. He was relieved when Yogi followed without protest, though historically, he was the only doctor Yogi seemed afraid of. It was hard enough concentrating on the patient in front of him, without added distractions.

Akari frowned in distaste at the sutures on the legs of his current patient. Kafka apparently hadn’t cared how badly the boy would be scarred. First he’d replace the most crucial stitches, then he’d redo the rest. This boys legs looked nearly as badly sliced up as that Exorcist’s chest had been. But he doubted this new patient could miraculously heal as his other one had.

Currently, that black-haired boy was like a caged tiger, graceful and deadly looking, pacing the confines of his room, guarded by Sheep to ensure he didn’t escape. The boy had managed to disable a dismaying number of them barehanded, before they learned to keep their distance, and use electric shocks to keep him confined. They would have released him by now, if it wasn’t for that female Exorcist kidnapping Gareki, attacking them, and then apparently kidnapping Tsukumo as well.

Akari was incredibly relieved when a while later Anna reported the blood sample she’d taken from his new patient showed no sign of Cradle or Incure cell contamination. But he was astonished when he read the full results of the test, the notation that his patient was genetically related to an active member of Circus, particularly when he clicked on the notation for further information and learned the identity of the person he was related to, and the extent of that relation. It wasn’t just a surface resemblance. He appeared to truly be Tsukitachi’s relative, apparently a half-brother.

In the next moment, as Akari was fighting to keep the scissors in the boy’s hands from his throat, he ruefully wondered if he was related through his other parent to their Exorcist guest.

Thankfully, in that instant, a vine was wrapped around the boy’s wrist, from behind Akari, restraining him gently, rather than attacking him.

“Lavi-kun, it’s alright! You’re safe! You’re on our Ship. This is Dr. Akari, not one of those evil men from Kafka. He won’t hurt you,” Yogi assured the boy, to Akari’s astonishment. Normally Yogi acted as if he were the devil incarnate.

“Yogi?” the boy verified, and then reached for his waist, his hand closing on a tiny hammer tucked into the belt tie, and he sank back onto the examination bed in relief. “I thought they recaptured us.” He looked up at Akari. “Sorry,” he added, as if it were an afterthought, his apology as completely underwhelming as any Gareki might have made. No wonder Yogi had called him ‘Lavi-kun’.

“It’s quite alright. You wouldn’t happen to be an Exorcist as well, by any chance, would you? Your reactions, reflexes and choice of weapon are painfully familiar,” Akari said, touching the bandage at his throat, shocked that he was actually capable of joking about anything.

“Allen? A white-haired boy, with a blinded left eye and red left arm with a glowing green cross on the back of his hand?” his patient asked eagerly, sitting up abruptly again.

Akari frowned. “No. I don’t know his name, he refuses to tell me, but he has long black hair and…”

“Kanda!” Lavi interrupted. “He’s alive? You’ve seen him, treated him?” he demanded, grabbing Akari’s wrist, as if he was afraid he’d vanish before he could tell him.

“Yes and yes. If you promise not to agitate him, I’ll let you see him, after I’m done taking care of your injuries. The last thing he needs is to be more agitated,” Akari said wryly.

“I didn’t kill him? I’m so relieved!” Yogi said feelingly. “And I have his sword, Mugen. I can return it to him.”

Akari turned in surprise and belatedly noticed the sheathed katana laced into the belt tie of the gi Yogi was wearing, as Anna re-entered the room, a bagged pint of blood in her hands.

“Yes, well, while I’m sure he’d be thrilled, I’m not certain we should return his sword. Especially as his formerly broken arm is fully healed. He seems to have a fascination for sharp objects,” Akari said dryly.

“I want to see him,” Lavi demanded.

“You can, as soon as I’m done transfusing you. Trust me, you’ll feel better for it. Now lie still, or I’ll sedate you,” Akari threatened.

“No he won’t. He’s only mean to me,” Yogi assured Lavi, to Akari’s surprise without any of the usual fear he exhibited, almost as if he were teasing him. “But please, lie back, Lavi-kun. I don’t want you to be injured at all, but at least let us help make up for the pain I caused you.”

To Akari’s surprise, Lavi reluctantly did as he asked. Just how deep did the new relationship between the two go? And what would Gareki think of it? For all his squirming protests, Gareki truly thrived under Yogi’s attention. Akari swallowed hard. Exactly as he had, with Hirato, though he’d been too blind to see it.

As if he’d conjured Gareki, a familiar voice demanded from the doorway. “Where’s Yogi?”

“Gareki-kun!” Yogi cried joyfully, straining to see past Akari, running up to greet his friend, only to be welcomed by a punch to the face, which sent him flying.

“Yogi-kun!” Lavi yelled, springing from the bed, furious, but promptly grabbing hold of the edge of the bed to keep from falling, instead of launching himself to Yogi’s defense, as he’d obviously intended.

“Yogi-kun!” a relieved young voice cried in relief from behind Gareki. “Lavi-kun! Oh no, you’re hurt!” Nai cried to Akari’s surprise, running to his patient, instead of to Yogi.

“Nai, how do you know him?” Gareki demanded suspiciously, instantly protective of the little Niji.

As Akari assisted Nai helping their patient back on to the bed, Nai eagerly explained, “Lavi-kun rescued me from the trunk, when I was kidnapped by that fake friend and those bad men! He took me back to the big top. But then everything went wrong: the Ships were on fire, you were kidnapped, and then everyone was hurt, and Tsukumo is missing, and Yogi was still missing.” Tears filled his eyes and ran down his cheeks.

Akari saw Gareki stiffen as Lavi hugged Nai and soothed him. “Hey, don’t cry! It’s going to be alright, Nai-chan, you’ll see! I was worried about my friends too, but now I know one of them is alright, like you know Gareki and Yogi are alright. I’m sure your friend Tsukumo is just as tough and brave as Yogi, that she’ll be alright too. I’ll help you look for her, OK? And maybe your friends can help me find my other friend, Allen, after they let me see my friend Kanda,” he said, looking up at Akari and Gareki as he said so, his words as much a challenge to them as a promise to Nai.

Gareki’s eyes narrowed. “You’re friends with the Princess? That means that girl who grabbed me, who almost killed Captain Hirato and the others and took Tsukumo, she’s your friend too?” His voice was deadly, chilling.

“What? What do you mean, almost killed?” Yogi demanded, panicked. Then he turned to Lavi, his eyes and voice pleading. “Why would she do that?”

“You mean Lenalee? She wouldn’t, not unless your friends had been turned into Akuma,” Lavi swore. “Even if she realized Yogi was one of you, she wouldn’t take revenge against you for Yogi attacking Allen. Or Kanda, even if she found out about him. Unlike you, we don’t attack and kill innocents,” Lavi accused angrily, then looked guilty for it a moment later, as Yogi paled. “I’m sorry, Yogi-kun. I know it’s not your fault,” Lavi surprisingly apologized to Yogi.

Lavi turned to Akari. “Please, I need to see Kanda. We need to leave, to look for Allen and Lenalee. She’s tough, but there’s no telling how many more Akuma are in Ship’s Haven, and now we know those others, Kafka, are there too.”

“Kafka? Kafka is here?” Gareki asked, incensed.

“We were captured by them, but we escaped. Please don’t be angry with Lavi-kun. I hurt him, and he doesn’t hate me for it. He helped me escape from Kafka,” Yogi explained.

“He’s warm, like you Gareki-kun,” Nai added clasping Lavi’s hand.

Gareki’s eyes narrowed and his jaw ticked, as he stared at their hands, the result of Nai’s actions the exact opposite of what the little Niji had planned. It was painfully obvious to Akari that Gareki was jealous, though Nai was clearly puzzled by Gareki’s reaction.

“Before I release you from my care, I’m sure Tsukitachi will have some questions for you,” Akari supplied, hoping to break the tension.

“I definitely have some questions. Foremost among them, why do you look so much like me?” Tsukitachi asked suspiciously from the doorway.

Akari wondered how long he’d been standing there, how much he’d heard, even as he saw surprise flash across Lavi’s face, masked in an instant. It reminded him painfully of Hirato’s dissembling mask, the one he showed the world, while keeping his thoughts and feelings carefully hidden.

“Likely because you’re Marian Cross’s son,” Lavi challenged smugly.

“How the hell do…? _Damn it._ Of course. You’re what, eighteen or so? So tell me, how many other half-siblings are running about? I suddenly know how Hirato feels,” Tsukitachi joked weakly, unable to fully mask his pain, and his voice catching on Hirato’s name.

“Before you say another word, I’ll ask you to not intentionally harm Tsukitachi, verbally or otherwise. Your friend Lenalee nearly killed our best friend, Hirato, and neither of us is in a particularly forgiving mood or stable frame of mind right now,” Akari baldly admitted, shocking himself with the pronouncement as much as Tsukitachi, both his defense of Tsukitachi, and admitting a fraction of what Hirato meant to him.

Lavi scowled. “I told you, Lenalee wouldn’t do that. It must have been an Akuma, one of their mimics, disguised as her, trying to set us against one another,” Lavi argued.

Gareki unexpectedly piped up. “I found her in the alley where Yogi attacked your friend the Princess… I mean Kanda. I thought she _was_ him, for a moment, when I saw her hair from behind, until I saw her face and chest. When she realized we had Kanda, she grabbed me and flew off with me. When she found out I was looking for Yogi, she said she’d exchange Yogi for Kanda.

“When we were talking, I found out your other friend, Allen, who Yogi hurt, is still alive, that he’s with her. But then she said she didn’t know where Yogi was and she’d trade me for Kanda instead. But that’s when the fou… Captain Hirato showed up, with four dozen Combat Personnel, and threatened her, the idiot. She’d tricked me into thinking she truly didn’t want to hurt anyone, before that, but then when they tried to tie her up, she attacked them. She blasted everyone out of the sky, and took off, while we were falling. And we still haven’t found Tsukumo. So where did she take her?” Gareki demanded.

“It sounds to me like everything would have been fine, if you didn’t attack Lenalee, that you might have gotten caught in the concussive wave of her Dark Boots, if she was accelerating fast enough, which is your own damned fault. I have no idea whether she took Tsukumo or not. But if Tsukumo was injured, Lenalee probably took her to the nearest hospital. I told you, we don’t attack innocents, but we sure as hell are capable of defending ourselves, when we’re attacked. Now take me to Kanda and let us go, if you know what’s good for you,” Lavi threatened, his voice equally deadly as Kanda’s, his hand gripping the handle of the tiny hammer at his waist, as if he could use it as a weapon against them.

“You’re not in a position to demand anything, Red, especially not when we have the Princess,” Gareki snapped.

Akari rubbed the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“The Black Order and Circus certainly haven’t been the best of friends, but we haven’t exactly been enemies, in spite of what certain sealed records say to the contrary,” Tsukitachi announced. “Let’s try to keep it that way, shall we? I don’t think it’s in either of our best interests to change that, especially not if both Kafka and the Millennium Earl have possibly joined forces, and are actually working together, in concert now,”

“They are!” Yogi piped up excitedly. “That’s why I need to talk to you. Those Kafka men, or Varuga, they were talking about a treaty between them and someone they called the Earl, but it sounded like there’s been one for a long time, and they were scoffing at the Earl, and talking about breaking the treaty and killing him. They wanted to use Lavi-kun’s weapon to increase the power of their storm creator. Did he… did he really attack and damage both Ships? I was so relieved when I saw them still flying, looking alright,” Yogi concluded worriedly.

Akari, Tsukitachi, and Gareki all stared at the temporarily crippled redheaded boy in astonishment. “That was you? You’re the one who attacked our Ships with lightning?” Gareki challenged angrily.

Lavi looked away guiltily. “Not intentionally. I was fighting Yogi, and losing, and he’d almost killed Allen, and he said he killed Kanda, so I used Heaven Stamp, and attacked him with lightning. But more lightning bolts discharged above the clouds. I didn’t know about your Ships. I’d never even heard of ships that could fly. I wasn’t trying to attack you. Did… was anyone onboard your Ships killed?”

“No, thankfully,” Akari admitted, before either Tsukitachi or Gareki could lie and say otherwise. “And it sounds as if your friend, Lenalee, didn’t intentionally try to kill any of our people either. Tsukitachi, I suggest you search the hospitals and doctors’ offices in Ship’s Haven for Tsukumo, if you haven’t already. And maybe have Yogi ask Lavi your questions, since everyone else seems to be antagonizing one another,” Akari suggested tiredly. _How did I get caught in the middle of this? I’m a doctor, not a damned diplomat._

“I’ll answer your questions, if you answer mine,” Lavi conceded.

_Thank God._ “Good. While you two talk, I’m going to give you that blood.” It was the least he could do, considering he’d to all intents and purposes stolen a pint from his friend.  “Yogi, why don’t you lend him some of your clothes? We can’t very well let him walk around the city half dressed.” Besides, Yogi would feel he was helping his new friend that way, and atoning in some small way for the pain and injury he’d caused him. Of course, the poor young man would be doomed to wear a pink, yellow or other atrociously bright colored shirt. Although, perhaps he liked bright colors as much as Yogi.

“Of course! I’ll be back soon!” Yogi promised.

“Wait!” Tsukitachi ordered. “First, you need to give me the coordinates of that Kafka base, or at least show me on a map of the City where to look. If there are any survivors, they’ll likely have cleared out of there by now, since you escaped, and they know you’ll report back to us. Were there survivors?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, but the most important thing was rescuing Lavi-kun and reporting back, about their storm weapon and their plans,” Yogi defended.

“You’re right. You did the right thing. But tell me what you know, and I’ll send an appropriate strike and search team,” Tsukitachi assured Yogi.

Akari began transfusing Lavi, while Yogi reported, interrupted occasionally by Lavi, adding details Yogi had either missed or failed to report. When they were done, Tsukitachi called Jiki and Kiichi and outlined the information, telling them to take prisoners, if possible, and to conduct a thorough search for information, particularly on the weather weapon, its location and capabilities.

Yogi headed out for the clothes, and Tsukitachi and Lavi began asking one another questions, the process made easier by the communication Lavi had already voluntarily instigated, during Yogi’s report. When Yogi returned with the clothes for Lavi, Akari noticed the bright green shirt was the exact shade of Lavi’s single visible eye, and the grin Lavi gave upon seeing the outfit Yogi had selected for him made Yogi smile back happily in return. They took a break in the debriefing, so Lavi could dress. The shirt, pants and boots all appeared to fit remarkably well, and Lavi looked quite striking in them.

They resumed the mutual information exchange. It was nearly two hours later that they were finally done speaking, and both Tsukitachi and Lavi were satisfied enough with one another’s answers that Tsukitachi was willing to let Lavi leave the Ship with his friend, Kanda. Jiki and Kiichi had reported that the Kafka facility had indeed been abandoned, and that they were searching for anything incriminating they might have missed when they cleared out. Akari doubted they’d left anything of import behind. They never did.

“We can’t let Kanda see Yogi, or Mugen,” Lavi stated, breaking Akari’s frustrated train of thought. “Yogi, I want you to put Mugen in that shuttle you told us about, the one Hans is going to pilot for us. And guard it, to make sure no one tries to touch it. The last thing we need is for Mugen to slice anyone up and us to get blamed for it. We’ll warn you when to leave, so he doesn’t see you. Kanda’s not a forgiving man.”

“Tch. Magic swords. I told the fou…” Gareki muttered under his breath, falling silent mid-word, scowling. Akari was surprised he was back. He and Nai had left two hours earlier. When had Gareki returned and how much had he heard? From the suspicious look on his face, Tsukitachi was apparently wondering the same thing. Gareki had been standing near the wall and had remained remarkably inconspicuous.

Lavi insisted on walking, instead of using a wheelchair, but agreed to use crutches, so as not to strain the stitches around his most severe injury, the one on his left calf, which was now hidden by both a pair of Yogi’s pants and boots. Akari could see the trip to the quarantine and recovery room Kanda was currently confined in was slow and painful for Lavi, because he also stubbornly refused to take any painkillers. He insisted he’d meditate later, to control the pain. Akari went with them, to ensure the already wounded young men weren’t injured worse through anyone’s foolishness.

When they reached the transparent outer wall to the containment facility, which was normally used for patients who had been contagious at one point but were no longer, Akari was surprised to see the young black-haired Exorcist appeared to be dancing. Then he realized his arms were out in front of him, as if he were holding an invisible sword. From the way Gareki’s eyes narrowed, he appeared suspicious that he might indeed have an invisible weapon.

Akari was relieved to see that the six Sheep in the room guarding him were apparently still functional. They appeared to be watching the Exorcist’s movements in fascination. Maybe they also suspected he had an invisible sword. Tsukitachi had mentioned that Gareki had recently reprogrammed both the Sheep and Rabbits to believe in magic. Akari had assumed the Captain of Ship One had merely been pulling his leg again, for his own twisted amusement, until Tsukitachi convinced him he was serious, when he explained the reason for it.

When Kanda spun back around, to face the transparent wall to the corridor, he froze upon seeing Lavi, expressions flashing across his face too quickly for an ordinary man to catalogue, but Akari had a genius level IQ, was a keen observer, and had spent years watching Hirato for any trace of weakness or true feelings, hidden behind his mask. The young man was shocked, then concerned and finally infuriated, though a moment later his face was a completely impassive mask.

“I suggest you use the intercom to explain we’re not the ones who harmed you and that you’re not a prisoner, although both those statements were at one point technically true,” Akari suggested. Then he showed Lavi how to operate the intercom.

“Kanda, it’s alright. They didn’t hurt me and I’m not a prisoner. Neither are you, anymore. We’re free to leave the Ship. They’re going to drop us off in Ship’s Haven. Allen’s alive and Lenalee’s with him. And we found Mugen, which will be returned to you, in the city.”

Kanda’s eyes narrowed. “What’s my first name and what did I do to you the first time you called me by it?”

“Why are you… ? Oh. I’d be suspicious too, considering everything that’s happened. Your name is Yu, and you tried to cut my head off. You’ve attacked me every time I call you by your first name.”

“Tch. Just what you’d expect from a Princess,” Gareki muttered.

Akari sighed. “You’re not helping, Gareki.”

“Open the door,” Kanda ordered, heading for it.

“Don’t attack anyone Kanda. Please. There’s been enough fighting between the Order and Circus. If it makes you feel better, I almost destroyed their Ships with Heaven Stamp, though it wasn’t intentional,” Lavi added.

It was fortunate he didn’t mention Lenalee’s attack on the crew. Akari would likely have strangled him, especially since Hirato had almost died because he’d used nearly his entire blood supply for Kanda’s surgery. But at least he’d gotten a pint of the Exorcist’s blood in exchange. Of course now he wouldn’t be able to analyze it, for unusual properties, but he honestly didn’t care.

Akari used his security key and voiceprint authorization and opened the door. For a tense moment, Kanda glared at them.

“Come on, Yu. I’m sure Lenalee and Allen are both worried about us. Allen will have told her you’re here,” Lavi urged.

Kanda nodded and Akari began leading the way to the shuttle. He knew Tsukitachi would want to walk behind them, to keep an eye on them.

When they finally boarded, and the ship took off, Akari breathed a sigh of relief. Two less patients to worry about. He needed to reheat his coffee, and maybe try to eat something. He wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon, but he needed to do something to recharge.

His communicator sounded and he put it to his ear, dreading what he might hear. “Akari speaking,” he said tensely.

“Dr. Akari, it’s Mizashi. We’ve found Tsukumo. She’s in a hospital in the City. Apparently the girl who attacked us brought her here. Tsukumo’s been diagnosed with a severe concussion, and two broken arms, but they’re pretty primitive down here. We don’t know if it’s safe to move her, but she definitely needs to be brought back to the Ship for treatment.”

“I’m on my way. Don’t do anything until I arrive,” Akari ordered. “Tsukitachi, I need to borrow your shuttle.”

“Pack whatever you need. I’ll fly to my Ship, and fly it back here, and bring you to her,” Tsukitachi said. He turned and froze, then turned back. “Is it safe for you to leave Hirato? From what you said…”

Akari nodded. “I’ve done everything I can. He’s stable. If anything arises, my staff can handle it. But Tsukumo needs me.”

“Alright. I’ll be back shortly,” Tsukitachi agreed, and then he jumped out of the entry portal.

“Sometimes I wish I could fly,” Akari said softly, as he headed back to Sickbay, to gather the equipment he needed, along with Gregory, to assist him. Anna would stay with Hirato.


	15. Reunions and Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again, Noenay, Skategirl246 and Kami_no_Koe for your earlier comments! I hope you are still reading and enjoying this story. I haven’t heard from anyone since Chapter 7, and I’d love to know what you and others think of these later chapters. So don’t be shy! Say hi!

Allen was relieved that there hadn’t been any further sign of Akuma, but worried sick that there hadn’t been any sign of Kanda or Lavi either. He knew that likely meant they were both dead, but he didn’t want to believe it. It was so frustrating to be so weak and injured, unable to help Lenalee look for them.

At least Marlene had made his convalescence easier to bear. She’d been very solicitous of him, bringing him all the food he could eat, right to his room, so he didn’t have to battle the stairs. He likely would have fallen down them, had he tried. He still felt weak and dizzy from his injury, and his missing eye ached fiercely, likely because it was regenerating. It felt the same way it had the last time he’d been blinded in it.

Allen frowned as he heard footsteps approaching the door. They didn’t sound like Marlene’s, they were too light, and there were two sets, although one of them sounded strange. Were they Akuma? Or those people who had been chasing Lenalee? His best chance would be to pretend to be asleep, and attack them when they tried to grab him. He forced himself to lay back, but on top of the covers, so they wouldn’t impede his legs.

He was surprised to hear the sound of a key in the door. He’d half expected them to break it down. He tensed and then forced himself to relax and close his eyes, not a moment too soon, as he heard the door swing open.

“Allen!” an astonishingly familiar voice cried, laced with concern.

“Lavi?” He bolted upright. “And Kanda! You’re both alright! What happened to your leg? Where’s your coat? Where have you been?” he demanded, concerned to see Lavi was using crutches, which explained why his steps had sounded so odd. He was also in clothes he’d never seen him wear before, though they looked good on him, and his Exorcist coat, which unlike Lenalee he wore religiously, was missing.

“Tch. Leave it to the Bean Sprout to be napping,” Kanda sniped.

Allen glared at him. “I wasn’t napping! I heard you approach and I was pretending, in case you were dangerous. I can’t walk without collapsing, so it was the best way for me to fight,” Allen defended himself indignantly

The denigrating sneer on Kanda’s face, changed to a scowl of concern. “The spike damaged your brain? Your center of balance is affected?”

At first he’d thought Kanda was insulting him again, but then he realized he was genuinely worried. “I… no. It’s just from the blood loss. I’ll be fine, after I rest some more. I can feel my eye healing. But I’m so glad you’re alright! I came to for a moment in the alley, and saw you… that you’d been… the wall… and…” Allen swallowed hard, shuddering at the memory. He’d been so afraid Kanda had been killed, and then from what Lenalee said, that Lavi had been, too. “What happened? Did you defeat that silver-haired Akuma, Lavi?”

“Yes, only he wasn’t an Akuma,” Lavi claimed. “It’s a long, complicated story. I’m going to try to convince the innkeeper to bring us some food up here, so we can eat while I tell it, but I’m not too optimistic about how that will go, even with my charm. She doesn’t seem to like Kanda.”

“Her name’s Marlene. She’s wonderful. If she let you up the stairs to see me, that’s half the battle. Lenalee and I tried to convince her Kanda really is our friend, and that we wanted to see him. Just tell her I’m hungry again, and ask if she’ll make something for you and Kanda as well. If you’re polite and friendly, she’ll be happy to serve you,” Allen assured him.

“Ah. Now I see. ‘Polite’ and ‘friendly’ aren’t really your strong suits, are they, Yu-chan?” Lavi teased, barely dodging out of the way of Mugen’s swing, though Kanda had kept his blade sheathed, apparently in deference to Lavi’s injury and the crutches.

“Lavi! Kanda!” Lenalee cried happily from the hall, and then she ran into the room and hugged Lavi, the crutches falling as he hugged her back to keep from falling.

“Hey Lenalee! Not so rough, especially if you’re hoping for another kiss,” Lavi teased.

“What?” Allen yelped in shock.

“Didn’t Lenalee tell you? She and I had a bit of a shipboard romance on the _Reliable_ ,” Lavi said smugly.

Allen frowned and he saw Kanda’s eyes narrow. Kanda would never admit it, but he was just as protective of Lenalee as he was. Or… was that jealousy? Because of Lenalee? Or Lavi? The latter thoughts made his stomach clench and his heart lurch. Kanda wouldn’t have cared if anyone was hugging him.

Lenalee pulled away from Lavi. “It wasn’t like that!” she exclaimed reprovingly. “I wouldn’t have kissed you, if I wasn’t trying to save your life!”

Lavi clutched his chest melodramatically. “How could you wound me with such cruel words, after what we shared?”

“She gave you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation because you’d drowned?” Allen hazarded, the only explanation that made any sense, from Lenalee’s words.

“No, but he might need someone to, when I tell Komui that Lavi stole my first kiss,” Lenalee said darkly.

“You _stole_ her first kiss?” Allen asked indignantly, as Kanda glared, his hand going to Mugen’s hilt, though Lavi was oblivious to that more immediate danger, as he looked at Lenalee in shock.

“I don’t think we need to tell Chief Komui about it. After all, a first kiss is personal,” Lavi reasoned, suddenly looking desperate.

“But you were so eager to share it with everyone before. And I tell my brother _everything_. He’ll be so happy for me, knowing I’m going to marry an Exorcist. And with us for parents, it’s all the more likely our children will become Exorcists too,” Lenalee gushed, wrapping herself around Lavi’s arm, suddenly looking starry eyed and joyful.

“Marriage? Children?” Lavi squeaked, pulling away.

“Of course! You are going to do the honorable thing, aren’t you Lavi? Otherwise, Komui may have to use Komlin to persuade you,” Lenalee threatened.

Lavi turned to Allen and Kanda, panic in his eyes. “It wasn’t how I made it sound! I was swept overboard in a storm and I had to meditate to survive the sun and lack of food and water, only I’d never done it under conditions like that before, and I went under too deep, and when they tried waking me, nothing worked, so Lenalee finally kissed me, after one of the sailors suggested it, she told me about it afterwards, and…” He turned back to Lenalee and bowed. “Please forgive me! I shouldn’t have teased you about it. And I’m sorry you wasted your first kiss on me.”

Allen was surprised at how genuinely contrite Lavi sounded, how guilty, and he could see Lenalee was too.

She reached out, touching his chin and forcing Lavi to look at her, the smile on her face tender. “It wasn’t wasted, idiot. It worked didn’t it? I woke you, and you’re alright. I can’t think of a better first kiss than that,” she assured him and then smiled affectionately at him.

0 0 0

Lavi felt horrible, and not only for the kiss: for how easily he was manipulating Lenalee into forgiving him. For how he deceived all of them, all the time. They thought he was their friend, but the truth was, he was only using them, the way Bookman had taught him to. His job was to be an impartial observer, to record history and do his best not to influence it or participate in it. Only it had gotten harder and harder to do that, since he became an Exorcist. Since he’d met Yu, and Lenalee, and now Allen.

They didn’t even know his real name.  Lavi was just another alias Bookman had chosen for him, his forty-ninth. He’d been six years old when he’d become Bookman’s apprentice, and forfeited his right to his real name. He’d been so many people since then, all of them false, hollow shells.

When had his persona as Lavi become different from all the others? When he saved Doug’s life? When he became his friend? When he destroyed the Akuma vessel his friend had become? The first time he saved Yu’s life? The first time Yu begrudgingly saved his? The first time he called Yu by his first name? The twentieth? When Lenalee cried over him, when she thought he’d been killed? When Allen proved to him he didn’t need his special eye to be an Exorcist, that he could adapt to any hardship, overcome it, and triumph? Even after knowing Yu and Lenalee, Lavi had never trusted in humanity. Doug had been the final, cruel proof that all of humanity were merely vessels waiting to be used by the Millennium Earl. Until Allen had convinced him otherwise.  

How were he and Bookman any different than the Earl? They used people, saw them as nothing but pawns, manipulated on the game board of life by others. No, they were even worse than the Earl. They didn’t take an active part in the game. They merely watched others play, and recorded the results.

And Yogi thought _he_ was a monster! He had no idea the depth of hidden strength he possessed, to battle down the demon inside him day after day, to fight to preserve life, instead of take it.

Lavi might have intentionally manipulated her feelings, but he had meant every word, when he’d told Lenalee he wasn’t worthy of her kiss. He wasn’t worthy of anyone’s.

“Lavi-kun, are you alright?” the hand on his arm was gentle, and full of concern, the voice Allen’s, he realized, as he focused on his face.

“I’m just tired,” Lavi admitted, for once speaking the truth. He was so very tired of all the acting, all the lies, the personalities that weren’t his. He was only 18, but he felt as if he were 4,000, as if he’d lived each of his fifty identities as lifetimes, yet he had no idea who he truly was, in his heart, or whether he still even had a heart. Although Lavi had begun to feel real to him, more real than anyone he’d been before: mischievous, loyal, protective, playful. The lecherousness was nonsense, a ploy to make them drop their guard, to not take him seriously. He actually wasn’t particularly attracted to women, or to men, for that matter, as a whole. He still didn’t trust most of them. Lenalee was like a sister to him. Allen and Yu… he wasn’t sure. Yogi… if Yogi hadn’t nearly killed Allen and Yu… Somehow he could forgive Yogi for injuring him, but much as he wanted to, much as he knew it wasn’t truly Yogi’s fault, he couldn’t forgive him for hurting Allen and Yu.

“I’m sorry Yogi blinded your left eye. He didn’t mean to. It’s not truly his fault,” Lavi blurted impulsively to Allen, some of the very few uncensored words he’d ever spoken in his life. He regretted them the instant he said them. How could Allen possibly forgive Yogi for that? Why should he even want to?

Allen frowned. “Yogi?”

Lavi just shook his head, instead of answering, not wanting to speak about it.

“The silver-haired monster with the vines,” Kanda supplied unexpectedly.

Lavi stiffened at the word ‘monster’, picturing Yogi’s distraught face, but kept silent, Bookman’s voice in his mind berating him fiercely for caring so much, for being upset, instead of a detached, impartial observer.

“But he didn’t,” Allen denied in surprise, his voice sincere. “The Akuma did that, one of the children Akuma we were after. I somehow ended up in Yogi’s arms, and I got the feeling he was trying to take care of me or protect me, though I don’t know why, especially not after he…  I’m so glad you’re alright, Kanda! I thought he’d killed you!” Allen cried with so much emotion in his voice, it was almost a sob.

“Tch. Crybaby,” Kanda scoffed, doing exactly what he always did with all of them, provoking Allen so he could hide his true feelings.

_Yogi didn’t blind Allen? He was actually helping him?_ _I wish Yogi knew that._ Lavi sighed wearily, hopelessly, at the foolish, wistful thought. How had even Yogi gone from an enemy, to a friend, someone he wanted to protect? How could Bookman remain so aloof from the world, so cold? _I don’t want to be like that. I want to protect them. All my friends. Friends. They really, truly are my friends, aren’t they? In spite of all the lies and deceit, their emotions are honest, pure. My friends._

The cold, heavy weight around his heart melted away with the warmth of those two simple words. What was the point in recording history, in watching civilizations rise and fall, people suffer and die, without trying to save them? Who would be left to read all those meticulous records if the Earl won the war? What if one more Exorcist could tip the battle, could be the difference between defeat and victory, the annihilation of mankind, or its salvation?

“Why don’t you rest, Lavi-kun? Both you and Allen? You can eat when you wake up, but you need to sleep to heal. Kanda and I will watch over you both, to make certain you’re safe,” Lenalee promised, holding out his crutches.

“Thanks, Lenalee,” Lavi said sincerely, accepting them, and swinging over to the bed. He sank down onto it wearily. His legs hurt fiercely, but for the first time in a long time, his heart was at peace.


	16. Magic and Miracles

Akari sank into his desk chair, staring at the cold, congealed, long abandoned cup of coffee. After the condition Hirato had been in, he’d expected the worst when he went to rescue Tsukumo from the primitive hospital. But fortunately, they had aided and not aggravated her condition, and her injuries hadn’t been nearly as dire as he’d expected; nothing like Hirato’s. She had a concussion and compound fractures in the radius and ulna of both arms, but that was the extent of the damage.

Could it be because Hirato had punched the Exorcist? Had she, or from what Exorcist Lavi had told them, perhaps even God through her Dark Boots, sought vengeance for the attack? _Damn it. Leave it to Hirato to piss off even God._

“What if I tell You that Hirato’s really not at all as much of an ass as he appears to be? That he’s truly a good man? That the world is a better, safer place because of him? I’m not one of Your chosen, and I honestly never even believed You existed, until today, so I suppose my words shouldn’t have much sway, but still… if You could find it in Your heart, or spirit, Your soul, I suppose, if You have one, to forgive Hirato his faults and flaws, and allow him to recover…”

Akari rubbed a weary had over his face. “I’m sure I’m botching this completely. I’ve never prayed before. I never really had a need to. I was so damned sure of myself, my own abilities to heal. But that virus. Hirato’s injuries. I know they’re in short supply, but we really could use a miracle.

“I’m sorry. Never mind. You allowed him to live. You kept the Ships in the air when they could have crashed. You returned Nai and Yogi to us safely. Tsukumo is going to recover. I suppose we’ve more than used up our quota in the miracles department, haven’t we?” Akari stared at his dry hand, half expecting to see tears again. He needed to sleep. But he was terrified that the moment he closed his eyes, Hirato would die. It was a completely hubristic, irrational fear, he knew, but…

He leaned back in his chair, forcing his muscles to relax, one by one. Just a small nap. In his chair, where he’d be easy to find, if anything went wrong. The thought of anything further going wrong set his heart racing. He breathed deeply, forcing himself to calm down. He wouldn’t be able to help anyone like this. He inhaled deeply and exhaled just as deeply and closed his eyes.

They flew back open, his heart pounding wildly, in syncopation to the frantic knocking at his door. He sprang to his feet, knocking the cup of coffee over, drenching his desk, as he bolted for the door, knowing he must look like a wild-eyed maniac when he opened it, from the expression on Anna’s face, and not caring. “What is it? What’s wrong? Tsukumo? Yogi?”

“No sir! It’s Captain Hirato. He…”

Akari was down the hall before she could finish her sentence, Anna racing to catch him.

“Is it his aorta again, his lung?” he demanded, terrified this time he wouldn’t be able to save him.

“Neither Doctor! He refuses to go back to bed,” Anna replied incomprehensibly.

Hirato was unconscious, immobile. How could… Akari froze in the doorway to Hirato’s room, staring in shock. Hirato was standing by the bed, buttoning the shirt Tsukitachi had brought for him, before he knew Hirato wouldn’t be leaving his bed for months, if ever. Hirato looked up, greeting him with his customary self-satisfied smirk, the one Akari had honestly feared he’d never see again, but then it froze on his face as his eyes widened in shock.

“What the bloody _hell_ do you think you’re doing, you _idiot_? Are you _trying_ to kill yourself?” Akari roared.

Hirato gaped at him, stunned, in open mouthed astonishment. “Akari, what’s wrong?” he asked with unaccustomed seriousness, as if _he_ was the one behaving incomprehensibly.

“What’s _wrong_? I spend _hours_ operating on you and… lie down. Now,” Akari commanded, his heart thudding wildly in his chest.

“But I feel fine,” Hirato objected, sounding genuinely puzzled.

“ _Damn it_! I can’t even drug you, because I could easily kill you and… I swear, if you don’t lie down this instant, I’m leaving this Ship, and I won’t ever come back.” Akari thought the threat a hollow one, that Hirato would treat it as a joke, but instead, Hirato lay back down obediently.

Instead of relieving him, his complacent obedience alarmed Akari more. He immediately checked the bandages on Hirato’s chest for blood, expecting the worst. Miraculously, the external stitches from the surgery hadn’t pulled loose. But the internal ones mending his torn aorta were a different matter. He might have torn it free completely, and between his flail chest and his other ribs potentially shifting, he could easily tear his lung tissue again and… He checked Hirato’s blood pressure, as he re-attached the electrodes of the heart monitor Hirato had so cavalierly removed.

He blinked at the readings of both. Normal. Completely normal. Nearly identical to those of Hirato’s last physical, when he was uninjured, at the peak of health and vitality. “That’s not possible,” Akari voiced in disbelief.

With shaking hands, he gently unwrapped the bandages, to check for externally viewable damage. He stared in consternation at the unmarred skin of Hirato’s chest, save for the tiny dissolvable sutures indicating the path of his scalpel. There wasn’t so much as a scar to indicate he’d ever been operated on. Akari pulled the X-ray hood over the bed, and focused first upon the worst of his broken ribs, and then his entire chest cavity. He stared at the results in consternation. There was no sign of recent breaks. Or healed ones, save for some old injuries.

“That’s not possible. You almost _died_. I… you….” Akari stuttered.

_Bloody hell. I asked for a miracle. I only wanted him to be alright. I didn’t expect him to heal like that Exorcist… The Exorcist! His blood. I gave Hirato a pint of his blood! But surely a single pint of blood couldn’t… I didn’t analyze it! Whatever healing factors might be in it are…_

“Don’t move. I need to take a blood sample. It’s probably far too late but I let him go and now…” Akari scowled furiously at Hirato. “Damn it! A once in a lifetime opportunity and… this is all your fault!”

0 0 0

Hirato breathed a sigh of relief as the world began to right itself. Akari was suddenly furious with him for some reason, blaming him for something. The Doctor was still disturbingly pale, his eyes bloodshot and shadowed, his hair in complete disarray, his clothes and lab coat rumpled, and he hadn’t shaved anytime recently, but the bleakness, terror, and wild-eyed disbelief were thankfully gone. For a horrifying few moments Akari had looked like he was completely falling apart.

None of it made sense. The last thing he remembered, he’d been rescuing Gareki from that flying girl and… no, there was more. He’d hit her, and they’d been tying her and… she’d exploded? Had she really? Something exploded. He woke up in Tsukitachi’s arms, pushed him away and… blood. He’d been coughing up blood. And his chest felt both crushed and on fire, like a flaming giant was squeezing him. He couldn’t breathe and… then he woke up here, moments ago, feeling fine, seen the clothes obligingly left for him and started to dress. Then Akari had come in and acted completely unhinged.

Exactly how long had he been unconscious? Hours? Days? Surely not weeks? He looked down at his chest, at the neat lines of stitches. Quite a disturbing number of stitches, actually, from his abdomen to his collarbone, and others radiating out from that line. But no wound. No scar. “Akari, what happened?” Hirato asked, hating that his voice actually sounded a bit frightened.

“I found God, and you almost went to Him. Now shut up and lie still, or I’ll take more than a pint,” Akari snapped, as he jabbed a needle into his vein none too gently.

“Gareki’s fine, no thanks to you. Next time you feel the urge to punch a little girl, try not to pick one of God’s chosen. If Joan of Arc was burning at the stake in front of you, you’d likely have been standing beside her toasting marshmallows,” Akari accused.

Hirato opened his mouth in protest and then froze. “Tsukumo. There was something about Tsukumo being missing.” He paled. “When everyone was falling! Where’s Tsukumo? Is she alright?”

Akari swatted away the hand that tried to grab him. “Keep it up. All you need is a broken needle in your arm, idiot. Tsukumo is going to be fine, again no thanks to you. Yogi is fine too, thanks to another one of those Exorcists, who wasn’t quite as fortunate. Tsukitachi’s half-brother, apparently, from the lab results.”

“Lab results? Lavi was injured? Rescuing Yogi?”Hirato asked, stunned.

Akari’s eyes narrowed. “How is it you knew about him, and Tsukitachi didn’t?”

“He’s the one who found and rescued Nai,” Hirato admitted, only telling him part of the reason.

“Ah. Of course. He rescues two of our people, so you feel it necessary to attack his friend, for talking to Gareki.” Akari sounded completely disgusted with him.

“From what Tsukumo reported, she kidnapped Gareki. And attacked her. How am I the villain?” Hirato demanded.

“Tch. That innocent act won’t work on me. You forget, I know you Hirato. I know all about you. Every little trick and scheme and manipulation you’ve pulled since I joined this Ship. Since before that, back at the Academy, when you were my student,” Akari accused.

“Why do you want a pint of my blood? Isn’t that a little excessive, since I was supposedly so badly injured?” Hirato complained, his voice laced with doubt. Surely Akari was being uncharacteristically melodramatic, perhaps in revenge for some of the pranks he’d pulled on the good Doctor in the past?

Akari made sure the blood was flowing freely down the tubing into the bag. Then he went to the foot of the bed, unhooked a clipboard, and threw it at him, aiming for his face. Hirato snatched it out of the air with his unoccupied hand, after having debated for a split second letting it strike him, just to see Akari’s reaction, but he’d instantly realized he’d be playing with fire.

Hirato scowled as he looked at the plethora of predominantly unfamiliar medical terminology in the “diagnosis” section. His eyes widened as he turned the page and saw the list continued down half the second page. When he flipped that page and saw the first of the X-rays he blanched. “That doesn’t… it looks…” He’d seen X-rays of his own ribs before, of a break here or there, a time or two. This didn’t even look human.

“Yes, I know. Imagine what it was like for me, being faced with that, trying to realign that mess. And that was after swimming in your blood to repair your aorta and torn and collapsed lung. I spent a good eight hours of my life, attempting to save yours. Hoping you wouldn’t actually hate me for it, if the worst came to pass, if you still managed to live but were paralyzed. Wondering whether you’d be able to convince Tsukitachi or even me to take pity on you, because you physically wouldn’t be able to kill yourself. Think about that, before you joke about not truly being injured, you ass,” Akari whispered, his voice catching more than once.

“I… Akari, I’m sorry. I had no idea… I still don’t understand. If... no, I meant to say, considering how badly I was injured, how can I be so fully recovered?” Hirato asked.

Akari exhaled heavily and ran his hand repeatedly through his hopelessly mussed pink hair. “Magic. Magic swords, magic hammers, magic blood. Bloody magic and miracles. God and his angels. Exorcists. Whatever. Ask the Sheep. They’ll tell you. I’m a man of science. I don’t believe in magic and miracles. Or I didn’t. Until today.”

“I’m sorry. For upsetting you. Aggravating you. I know I’m far from you favorite person,” Hirato began contritely, unable to keep the longing from his voice, with so much raw emotion in the air.

Akari’s eyes widened, a look of sudden understanding in their depths that made Hirato want to run, or hide. He’d always known this would happen someday, that he’d have a weak moment, and reveal too much. He’d just provided all the fodder Akari needed to make his life a living hell.

“You stupid, oblivious ass,” Akari accused, not the words Hirato expected him to say. Akari clamped down on the tubing, in two places, squeezed the last of the blood from the tube into the bag and cut the tube. Then he marked the bag and removed the needle from Hirato’s arm, taping a wad of pink gauze to the tiny hole with pink surgical tape, the color of Yogi’s favorite bracelet, Hirato realized, as he pressed Hirato’s own hand against it.

Come to think of it, recently every time Akari drew blood from Yogi, or bandaged his injuries, he used pink. His compassion for Yogi, which he hid so well, was belatedly apparent. Unfortunately, Hirato knew the Doctor didn’t view him in the same light, as evidenced by his harsh words, though he wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong this time, only proving Akari’s words true.

“I was terrified. I thought you were dying. You _were_ dying. I…” Akari bent over him and reached for his neck, and Hirato braced himself to be strangled or punched. If Akari needed to work out some of his aggravation on him, he wouldn’t dodge or evade him this time. This time, he’d let him hit him. He hated seeing Akari this upset. It was usually his favorite pastime, teasing and upsetting Akari, but this was different.

“I’ve wasted _years_ , being too damned arrogant, too proper, because you were my student, and then you had to go and get yourself promoted to Captain, making it that much worse. Because you’re supposed to fight to save humanity, but you’re not supposed to be allowed the luxury of actually _being_ human. As a Doctor, neither am I. None of us are. But frankly, I could care less about the Council and their idiotic rules,” Akari declared.

Akari’s face was only centimeters away from his own, so close that Hirato could feel the warmth of his breath on his lips. It made it nearly impossible to think, to attempt to process what Akari was saying. It almost sounded as if the Doctor was confessing he actually had _feelings_ for him, which was completely absurd, and the height of hubris on his part, that Aka…  “Mpf!”

Hirato’s brain shorted out midthought as Akari’s lips touched his own, in an unmistakable, eager, desperate, claiming kiss. Instinct took over, and Hirato wrapped his arms around the Doctor’s waist, pulling him closer,  in the next instant cursing himself for it, afraid Akari would just as instinctively push away from him, and then berate him, hating him for somehow coercing him into kissing him, when he had no idea Akari would do something so out of character.

Had there been other injured crew he didn’t know about? Deaths? Had Akari cracked and broken under the pressure, the weight of his guilt? The deaths of those eight men and women had hit him far harder than anyone save Hirato knew. He’d studied Akari for years, every nuance of his psyche, but he’d never expected this.

Hirato broke the kiss, not even trying to mask his concern. “Akari, I’m flattered, but I think you’d better lie down. Maybe call Anna or Gregory and have them take a look at you,” Hirato proposed cautiously.

Akari blinked, his bloodshot but still beautiful pink eyes looking dazed, the shadows around them only accenting the color, against his flushed face. But in the next moment confusion and then anger flared. “Flattered? You’re _flattered_? You’ve been chasing after me like a dog after a bitch in heat for years, and you’re _flattered_ that I kissed you?”

_Uh oh._ Perhaps that hadn’t been the best choice of words. But it wasn’t as if it had been easy to think at all rationally, considering. “You obviously have no idea what you’re doing,” Hirato tried to explain, but Akari’s grip on his tie was now tightening painfully, and his earlier expectation of being strangled was quickly becoming a reality.

“Careful, Hirato. Everyone half expected you to die this time anyway. They won’t question a body, particularly not since I’ll be the one conducting the autopsy,” Akari threatened darkly.

Hirato vainly tried to remember what had been so wrong about Akari kissing him that he stopped him, in exchange for this. And he’d thought Yogi was the one with the multiple personality disorder! “How about instead I apologize for being an idiot, and you kiss me again?” Hirato suggested without much hope.

Akari crossed his arms. “You’re going to actually apologize to me for something, after having already said you were sorry to me twice today. Go right ahead,” he challenged.

Hirato knew Akari was expecting him to apologize with his usual dramatic flair, and the urge to do so was almost unstoppable. Almost. “I’m sorry I insulted you, by my words and actions. And I would very much like you to kiss me again. Or to allow me to kiss you,” he said sincerely.

“Tch. Like I’d give you the chance to humiliate me a second time,” Akari scoffed, but he sounded wistful, and also, disturbingly more hurt than annoyed or angry.

“Maybe you’re right, and we shouldn’t try again,” Hirato stated, wincing as the hurt look intensified. “Not because I don’t want to,” he quickly added. “But because you might regret it later, and convince yourself it was just because you were relieved I was alright, and then think I took advantage of you. The next time you kiss me and I kiss you back, I don’t want you to think it’s some foolish prank or trick. So I’d rather wait, until the timing is right, until we can both enjoy it. But I want you to know, to believe, that I’m really and truly sorry I reacted so poorly.”

Hirato had never exposed his feelings so openly to the Doctor before. He knew he was leaving himself wide open, if Akari chose to go for his jugular, but the knowledge that Akari had actually kissed him and he’d been stupid enough to push him away was unbearable.

“You say that so confidently, as if we have all the time in the world. You almost _died_ Hirato, and I’ve waited too bloody damn long already. I’ve wasted years in this ridiculous game of cat and mouse we’ve been playing. The worst of it is, more times than not, I’ve been the cat. I should have eaten you ages ago,” Akari confessed.

His words brought all kinds of pictures to mind, revolving around Akari’s mouth, and kissing was only a portion of them. Hirato bit back on the half dozen comments he wanted to make, and jumped in surprise when Akari smacked him in the arm. “Stop holding in everything you want to say or I’m going to think you’re not fully recovered after all.”

Hirato opened his mouth, and Akari took advantage and kissed him again. This time Hirato responded fully, wrapping his arms around the Doctor’s slender waist and pulling him in closer, still half afraid he’d pull away. Risking just that, he cautiously teased his tongue past Akari’s lips and was thrilled when Akari responded in kind. He had half expected the Doctor to be completely inexperienced in kissing, and was conversely both disappointed and relieved that he wasn’t.

He threaded his fingers through the tangled disarray of pink hair. It was just as soft as he’d always imagined it would be. He felt slightly cheated, though, knowing Akari had already looked disheveled, that mussing his hair wouldn’t even be noticed, now. The fingers twining in and grabbing his own hair, though, were very welcome.

When they finally broked the kiss, Hirato found he was surprisingly breathless, though he hadn’t been holding his breath.  He belatedly realized the heart monitor he was still hooked up to was pinging almost musically, at quite an accelerated rate, betraying the quickness of his heartbeat. He opened his mouth to comment upon it, but Akari tugged off the electrodes. “You talk too much,” he accused, as he dove back in for another kiss. And for the first time in their long, tangled history together, Hirato was more than happy to let Akari have the last word.


	17. With a Kiss

Lenalee was both relieved and concerned at how quickly Lavi and Allen fell asleep. She wished she could join them. She was exhausted.

“Why don’t you get some sleep as well? I can make you a bed on the floor, and protect all three of you,” Kanda unexpectedly volunteered, speaking softly, so as not to wake the two.

She smiled warmly at him. “That’s very sweet of you, but I’ll be fine. I know you don’t like speaking much, but I’d rather hear more about how you and Allen got here, and what’s been happening. I learned a little from Allen, but we didn’t really have a chance to talk. And I can tell you about me and Lavi.” 

To her surprise and delight, Kanda began telling her about his own journey, and meeting up with Allen. She was worried to hear about the Akuma they’d battled, and the stories they’d heard about the church fire and other events before they arrived. It was a good thing the storms had blown them all off course to here. She wondered if the Order knew about the Akuma here, if a Finder had reported them and then been killed, since she hadn’t seen any signs of one in the city so far. Lenalee fought a yawn and lost, covering her mouth and blushing.

“I’ll be back,” Kanda announced unexpectedly, turning and leaving abruptly, locking the door behind him.

Lenalee struggled to keep her eyes open, to remain alert, while he was gone, hoping Kanda would return soon. She’d have to lie down for a little while after all. After watching over Allen and hunting for Lavi, and the excitement of her capture and escape, and her incessant worry for her friends, she was utterly spent.

She heard the sound of the key in the lock, but was wary, in case it wasn’t Kanda. When the door to the room opened, she saw it was indeed Kanda, and he was unexpectedly carrying a large pile of blankets and a pillow. Without a word, he walked over to the wall furthest from the bed and laid out a thick comforter and one of the blankets on the floor, placed a pillow at one end and folded another blanket neatly at the foot of the improvised bed. He stood and gestured to the bed. “Sleep,” he commanded.

The uncharacteristically kind gesture left Lenalee fighting tears, which just went to show Kanda was right, she needed to sleep. “Thank you,” she whispered. She lay down, and pulled the blanket over her, but kept her boots on, so she’d be ready to rise and fight at a moment’s notice.

0 0 0

Daniel growled bitterly, pulling the heavy cart laden with sweet potatoes behind him. He’d already helped with the marketing in the morning, but the white-haired Exorcist Allen had asked for sweet potatoes again, and they were out, but could Marlene just tell him to wait until tomorrow? No. Instead, he had to run to the Market and pick through the dregs to find ones she’d find acceptable. And that was after all the extra trips up and down the stairs with food, and the extra dishes he’d had to wash. It was bad enough there were four people sharing a room meant for two, but they ate as if they were twenty! And each time that jerk with the sword had watched him like a hawk eying a mouse, ready to pounce.

A hand grabbed his arm and he pulled away and spun, ready to fight, but lowered his fists when he realized it was only Mark.

“You almost hit me! Have you gone deaf or something? I called your name three times!” Mark griped indignantly.

“Sorry. I was thinking,” Daniel groused.

“You look like you’re having a rough day. Would you like some candy to cheer you up?” Mark offered, holding out a piece, grinning.

Daniel’s eyes widened and he accepted the brightly wrapped gift eagerly. He unwrapped the shiny orange paper from the sugary sweet and popped it into his mouth. It was the best candy he’d ever tasted! “Where did you steal it from?” he demanded, as he chewed, tucking the paper into his pocket. He had to steal some too!

“I didn’t steal it. I sold something for it. For a whole bagful, enough candy to last me a week,” his friend boasted.

“Tch, right. What could you possibly have to sell that someone would want and pay you in candy for?” Daniel scoffed. Mark was a braggart, though he didn’t usually tell such whopping lies.

“It wasn’t just the candy he gave me. I got a purse full of silver, too! Enough so I can eat for weeks, no matter if my dad doesn’t work and drinks away all our food money again or not. I hid it and the candy from him,” he said proudly.

Daniel felt avarice and envy burn through his soul. “What did you sell? The only thing you’ve got is them clothes on your back and…” He paled as the only possible answer came to him. “You did like your Mum? You sold yourself to some rich pervert for sex?” he squeaked, the thought churning his stomach.

Mark looked completely shocked and horrified. “Course not! How could you think I’d do that? I sold a coat, you idiot. I found it outside this warehouse, clear on the other side of town, when I was scavenging. I found some pants and boots too, but they was all slashed to ribbons and bloody. I thought I was rich enough, finding the coat, there was a huge star on the chest, where the heart would be, made of real silver! I was going to sell it to a pawn shop, when I remembered what my friend Andrew said about one of those Circus blokes looking for dangerous criminals in black and silver coats, how he’d pay in candy and silver for information. So I thought, if he’d pay for that, he’d likely pay even more for the coat, and I was right! I only wish I knew where to find another coat, or maybe one of those men. Although that big bloke was right scary looking, for a Circus clown, with long ears, like a bat, and a really big fanged mouth. He was a real freak, in a long white coat with a purple collar, and a black ringmaster top hat, and carrying a purple umbrella with a Jack-o-lantern stuck on the end of it. I thought clowns was supposed to look funny, not creepy like that.”

_The Exorcists! Circus is looking for the Exorcists! Maybe they ain’t real Exorcists after all; maybe they is just pretending to be, or are real but bad ones, mean ones. I knew that one with the black hair and sword was no good! And even if they wasn’t really criminals,it would serve them right if they got arrested, for being so mean to me, threatening me like that one done._ “I think I got something I could sell to him too. Where did you see him last?” Daniel asked, excited.

“In the alley near the Jolly Roger, just where Andrew said he’d be. I swear he just came floating down out of the sky, like that umbrella of his was a balloon or something. He had this big, fake smile on his face. I don’t know what make-up they used to make him look like that, and how he can wear false teeth that big and still talk, but I never seen someone so creepy looking. So what you gonna sell him?”

“I’ll tell you later. I’ve gotta get back to the inn quick, or Marlene will tan my hide,” Daniel fibbed, to get rid of Mark quickly. Mark’s dad whipped him with his belt when he was drunk, so he knew Mark wouldn’t want him to get hit.

“Good luck. I hope he wants whatever you’re selling,” Mark said sincerely.

“Oh, he will,” Daniel assured his friend. _If he paid that much for a coat, just think what he’ll pay to be able to find four Exorcists! That’ll teach that mean one not to threaten me like that!_

But after he had gone another block, Daniel rethought his plan. The Jolly Roger was only ten blocks away. He’d have to cross half the city to come back, and Marlene likely wouldn’t let him leave the inn with dinner to prepare for, and then clean-up after. And what if the Exorcists left tomorrow? He resolutely turned and headed for the Jolly Roger, wishing he could hide the cart, but knowing he couldn’t risk having it and the sweet potatoes stolen.

Ten blocks later, he turned into the alley. It was dark and smelled of stale bear, old urine and rancid vomit, from the tavern, the walls of the surrounding buildings blocking out the sun. He heard what he hoped was a stray cat and not a rat digging through the refuse. He was starting to have second thoughts about his plan. Other than him, the alley was empty. But then, down out of the sky came the bizarre looking person Mark had described. He’d thought Mark had exaggerated how creepy he looked, but he actually hadn’t even begun to do him justice.

“Welcome! You aren’t one of the delightful children I’ve spoken to while in your fine city, but I can see you’re a young man on a mission. Do you perhaps have something you’d like to sell to me? Other than sweet potatoes, of course. I have a fondness for pumpkins, and I like the color on the inside of sweet potatoes because of it, but they lack the texture I desire. They are not hard enough on the outside, or tough enough on the inside. But you, you strike me as a pumpkin sort of boy. You’re not here for candy, I can tell. It’s silver you seek. So tell me your name, and tell me or show me what you have to sell.”

Daniel nodded, though he’d ached to taste more of that delicious candy. He hoped the wrapper wasn’t peeking out of his pocket. But he could buy his own candy with the silver anyway. Silver was better.

“My name’s Daniel. I hear you’re looking for information on the Exorcists. I can do better. I know where four of ‘em are, right here in the city. There’s a mean jerk with a black and silver coat with a big silver star over the heart, with long black hair and a sword, named Kanda. And there’s a boy with the same kind of coat, with white hair and a red demon’s arm named Allen.”

A shiver went down Daniel’s spine as the man’s eyes flared brightly, they literally glowed, as if the fires of hell burned inside him. Daniel quickly told him the rest. “And a boy with red hair on crutches, and a pretty girl with long black hair. I don’t know their names. But I’m sure they’re Exorcists too,” he added, and then swallowed fearfully, because now that he thought about it, he wasn’t certain at all the last two were Exorcists. They weren’t wearing those coats, and he hadn’t seen the two of them carrying any sort of weapon.

“Where did you see them?” the freakish man asked, the intensity of his voice making Daniel openly shake.

“Th… they’re st…staying at our inn, the Journey’s End,” he admitted, cursing himself in the next moment for revealing too much without seeing any sign of payment, let alone haggling to increase the amount. “They trust me. If you want me to deliver somethin’ to ‘em, or… or do somethin’… I can get close to ‘em,” he added quickly, realizing not only might he not get paid, but he might pay for speaking with his life, unless the man realized he was still important.

The big man chuckled, an almost jolly sounding, old man’s laugh but with a freakish tone to it which had Daniel biting his tongue not to scream.

“What a wonderful plan! I was going to surprise my friends, drop in on them unexpectedly, but you’ve given me a much better idea, Daniel.”

The way the man said his name made his skin crawl. He wished he hadn’t given him his real name, or told him about the inn. He lived there too, in a tiny room in the back, just off the kitchen. And had he really meant friends or was he just trying to make him think that? Daniel wished he’d never come.

“Hold out your hand,” the man commanded.

Daniel’s arm felt like a lead weight as he lifted it, holding out his hand, which was trembling, no matter how much he tried to hold it still.

“Instead of going to see them, I have a present I’d like you to deliver for me.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out four pieces of candy, wrapped in shiny black paper with little silver specks, like stars on a night sky. “These are Night Drops, a confection of my own making. The next time you bring them coffee or tea, dissolve one of these inside, in place of a teaspoon of sugar.” He instructed, placing the candy in his hand.

He’d expected the man’s touch to be like ice, or fire, but the gloved hand felt warm, incredibly reassuringly so. “And, for your time and trouble, here are 120 pieces of silver,” he said, reaching into another pocket and pulling out a bulging black silk purse.

Daniel’s eyes widened in avarice as he took the heavy purse. He’d count it all once he was safely back at the inn, though he knew he wouldn’t come back, if the man cheated him.

“And Daniel. I plan to visit the four of them, after they have time to appreciate my special gift. I’m afraid I’d be quite angry with you, if they weren’t all there to greet me,” the old man stated in a gently, chiding, grandfatherly sort of voice, but one thinly masking such a level of threat that Daniel had to fight not to run.

“O’ course not! I mean, I won’t betray you, sir, I’d never do that. You can trust me! You paid me and all. I mean, you could anyway but…” he promised in a rush, aware he was completely botching it, but unable to say what he meant.

“Of course I can, Daniel. We have a verbal contract, an exchange of coin for services rendered. If you were to renege on your portion of the agreement, I would simply have to collect _alternate goods_ ,” he said, still with that same, inhuman smile.

_Alternate goods? Does he mean me? Or four others? Marlene and Kevin and Angie and Carl? I don’t like any of ‘em, much, but I don’t want nothin’ bad happenin’ to ‘em._ “I won’t let you down. You have my word, and that’s good for somethin’, it is,” he swore.

“Excellent. I can’t tell you how much I look forward to my visit. Now run along. You have an important package to deliver,” he urged, making a shooing motion with his right hand.

“Yes sir!” Daniel said, backing out of the alley, as if the man were a king, not wanting to insult the man by turning his back on him, even though somehow, long before he reached the mouth of the alley, the man disappeared from view, when his white coat should still have been easily visible.

As soon as Daniel reached the mouth of the alley he turned and ran, pushing the cart in front of him. He didn’t slow down for ten blocks, though he knew he might bruise the potatoes by it, and he lost a few along the way that bounced out from inside, and didn’t stop to pick them up.

He was glad the inn was so far away. He’d have time to calm down, before arriving. He’d count the money once he was home, safely back at the inn. But the thought of the candy made his stomach queasy. What if the candy Mark had given him was special too? No, it had an orange wrapper, not black like this one.

He had no desire to keep the starry black paper, pretty though it looked.  _Is the candy poison? Or just somethin’ to make ‘em sleep? Or sick? Or maybe just clumsy, so they can’t fight?_ He knew it couldn’t be anything good.

Guilt gnawed at his stomach, but he pushed it firmly away. _They deserve what they get, with all the extra work they made me do. 120 pieces of silver. He gave me 120 pieces of silver, and warned me not to betray him. I never imagined having so much coin! I could practically buy my own inn with that much! Or at least buy a boat, or a horse, or a sword. I could buy a new life, a better life, where other people did all the work for a change._ With those thoughts assuaging his guilt, Daniel hurried on to the inn.

Marlene didn’t even scold him for taking so long, since he’d run part of the way back, and made up the lost time from the side trip, or maybe because she knew how long it would take to find decent  sweet potatoes at the Market, so late in the day.

This time, when he was told to bring them their tea, he was eager to do it, instead of complaining about it. 120 pieces of silver, for four people. That was the same as 30 silver pieces for each person.

He scrunched his brow. _30 pieces of silver. Why does that sound so familiar?_

He headed up the stairs, adding the four candies to the steaming teapot in the hall, since he wouldn’t be pouring their tea for them. He expected it to bubble or hiss or change color when it dissolved, and was disappointed when it just mixed in like it was real sugar. He hid the sugar bowl in the linen closet near their room. He’d already thought of an explanation for the tea.

He knocked and entered when told to come in. “I brung you your tea. It’s sweet tea, specialty of the house. Already got the sugar added, so I didn’t bring none,” he explained, proud of his quick thinking.

The white-haired boy Allen gave him a big grin as he poured himself a cup. “I love sugar! Thanks so much!

Allen poured a second cup for the red-haired boy and walked it to the bed for him. Daniel had seen he’d been using crutches before, that he could barely walk. “Here you go, Lavi. They make great tea here, though I’ve only had the regular kind. And the food’s amazing, and Marlene feeds me as much as I can eat!”

“Tch. You’re going to bankrupt the Order, paying for it all,” the cranky black haired boy scoffed.

“Thank you so much, Daniel! My name is Lenalee. Allen told me how wonderful you’ve been, and I’ve seen how hard you’ve been working. Here, this is for you,” the pretty girl who was with them said, holding out her hand.

He didn’t want to know her name, any of their names, and it was too late for them to start thanking him, but he held out his hand curiously, his eyes widening at the eight silver pieces she handed him. This morning, it would have been a fortune, but it paled to what he had now. He had 120 silver. 128, with these.

To his utter shock, she bent down and kissed him on the cheek. “That’s two for each of us. We know you’ve had a lot of extra work because of us, with four of us sharing a room, plus I’m sure Allen’s left you a mountain of dishes each meal. You’ve been a real trooper about it,” Lenalee said with a warm smile.

Daniel touched his cheek in shock, as Allen handed Lenalee a cup of the special tea. Daniel almost told her not to drink it, but then he remembered what the man said, about betraying him. “I… you’re welcome,” he muttered awkwardly, the eight silver pieces feeling far heavier than they should, as he watched her drink. He was relieved when she seemed to enjoy it, and nothing bad happened. Maybe it wasn’t poison after all. Maybe it was just a gift. But he didn’t think so.

Even the dark haired mean man poured himself a cup. Daniel turned and left the room as quickly as he could, wondering why he felt like he was going to cry. He had 128 pieces of silver, the eight the girl gave him, two for each person, and the 120 the man had given him, 30 for each person.

He hurried down the hall. _30 pieces of silver. Why does that sound so familiar?_

Daniel froze, as he realized in horror where he’d heard that amount before. _30 pieces of silver was the price Judas was paid for betraying Jesus._

His hand went to his cheek, where Lenalee had kissed him, as he betrayed her, and then dropped to his stomach, as he ran for the public toilet down the hall, barely managing to reach it before he collapsed to his knees and vomited up the candy, his lunch, and what felt like half his insides, as the old man’s laughter echoed in his head.


	18. Madmen and Monsters

Lavi crinkled his nose at the sickly sweet taste of the tea still on his tongue. He’d only taken a single drink, before setting down his cup in disgust. He preferred green tea, and he never added sugar. He was ravenous, but the cookies held no appeal for him either. “I’m going to see if I can get an early dinner,” he announced. “Do the rest of you want one?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t even stand easily. You won’t be able to manage those stairs. I’ll get us dinner, and some decent tea. This stuff is vile,” Yu grumbled. He’d only smelled it, before setting it down.

“Does that mean I can have yours?” Allen asked eagerly. He’d already downed a full cup, along with an entire handful of cookies in a single mouthful.

“I happen to like sweet things,” Lenalee said, with a smile in both Lavi’s and Allen’s direction, causing Yu to scowl more fiercely, as he set his cup down in front of Allen.

“Thank you Kanda. That would be wonderful,” Lenalee added, a teasing twinkle in her eye, for having excluded him before and Lavi suspected, for intentionally making Yu jealous.

Lavi sighed softly, as he realized he wished Yu’s jealousy wasn’t solely directed towards Allen.

0 0 0

“Tch,” Kanda snorted in disgust, and then exited the room. He was annoyed with himself for having fallen for such an obvious ploy, but he hadn’t liked seeing Lenalee openly flirt with Allen and Lavi, especially not after she’d already kissed Lavi. Just the thought of Lavi with her made his blood boil. She was like a sister to him, and he knew Allen saw her as one as well, but he wasn’t sure exactly what Lavi’s feelings were. Lavi commented loudly and openly on every pretty female he saw, but to his knowledge he’d never kissed one before Lenalee. Regrettably and frustratingly, Lavi had never once expressed the same interest in a man.

Kanda sighed in disgust. Not that he wanted Lavi flirting with any man, other than him or Allen. His scowl deepened at even the thought of him doing so with others, but he forced it off his face once he was on the stairs. He needed to act friendly towards Marlene, or she wouldn’t feed them, and Lavi and Allen both needed to eat, to regain their strength and heal.

Fortunately, Marlene seemed to be in an amenable mood, especially when he offered to bring the food upstairs, once it was prepared, since that boy, Daniel, had apparently disappeared. Kanda volunteered the fact that the boy had just received a substantial amount of silver from Lenalee and suggested he had likely snuck out to spend it, which both relieved and incensed Marlene, to his grim satisfaction.

Kanda waited while the food was prepared, and then carried it up to the room, balancing the heavy tray with ease as he unlocked and opened the door.

He was shocked at what he found, shoving the tray onto the washstand and running to Lavi, who was trying to drag himself along the floor towards the door. Even more terrifying, Allen and Lenalee were both lying limp and lifeless on the floor, Timcanpy flying in frantic circles above Allen’s head.

“What happened? Who did this?” Kanda demanded as he scanned the room for foes, but found none.

“Da kna. Hat sa mach. Cat moob,” Lavi whispered, the words distorted and all but unintelligible.

_Don’t know. Hurts so much. Can’t move. Why?_ Kanda jerked his attention to the tea tray in suspicion and sudden conviction and his eyes narrowed in fury. “The tea, or cookies, or both. You’ve been poisoned!” he cursed, grabbing Lavi’s jaw in his left hand, forcing open his mouth, and sticking his right pointer finger down his throat, to make him vomit. It worked, disgorging everything in Lavi’s stomach onto his hand and the floor.

Kanda held him as he retched, lest he drown in his own vomit, only moving to Allen once Lavi was done. He repeated the process with Allen and Lenalee, who both were conscious and breathing, upon closer inspection, but apparently completely paralyzed, their eyes wide with pain and fear.

“I’m going to kill that kid,” Kanda promised, as he headed for the window, leery of an attack. His fears were realized when he saw half a dozen Akuma floating in the air approaching the building. At sight of him, they attacked, rocking the inn with explosions. He suspected there were others, that the building was being surrounded. “First Illusion: Netherworld Insects!” Kanda cried, as he attacked the two already within range.

“Lavi, can you still control Hammer? If I carry Allen and Lenalee to you, are you still strong enough to hold onto the handle, to hold them and yourself on, and extend it, to escape to safety with them? Can you reach those Circus Ships?” He didn’t trust those people, but Lavi did, and Circus would be forced to attack the Akuma to defend their own Ships even if they wouldn’t otherwise have helped.

“Yef,” Lavi agreed, nodding to be clear, determination in his eyes, even as he hunched over, clearly in pain, unable to conceal it as he normally would.

Kanda quickly grabbed first Allen and then Lenalee, depositing both of them in Lavi’s arms, and then dumped the dregs of the pot of tea onto Allen’s hair and shoved the single remaining cookie and the crumbs from the plate into his pocket. “Maybe they can use Allen’s hair or the cookie to analyze the poison,” he explained. There was no way Lavi could have carried the pot, without it spilling or falling and breaking.

He yanked the sheet off the bed, and used it to bind Allen and Lenalee to Lavi. “When I give the word, go!” he ordered, looking intently into Lavi’s eye to make sure he understood, that he was ready.

When he saw he was, Kanda ran back to the window. The Akuma were almost directly on top of them. “Ascending Flower”, Kanda cried, activating the power of his tattoo. He could feel the veins throbbing around his eyes. “Forbidden Spell: Triple Illusion, Exploding Spirit Cut!” He felt himself weaken momentarily, as he burned away a fraction of his life force, unleashing a flurry of explosions, blasting every Akuma in sight out of the sky.

“Lavi, go!” he ordered, ducking back from the window, banging into Timcanpy, knocking him to the floor. Hammer extended, shooting the three of them out the open window. Kanda watched anxiously, careful to not get too close to the hammerhead or handle, lest the Innocence smash him in defense. He’d touched it before safely, with Lavi’s permission allowing it, but with Lavi in such bad shape, he might not be able to prevent the Innocence from harming him.

Timcanpy didn’t try to follow, staying with him, for the moment at least. Fortunately no other Akuma converged on them, but the inn was rocked by half a dozen more explosions from the other side. There was a rumble and Kanda cursed, as he realized the roof was caving in, perhaps the entire building coming down, as he saw cracks spider webbing the ceiling overhead. With no choice left, he dove out the window, cursing as the hammerhead brushed past him as it retracted towards Lavi, the Innocence lashing out defensively, smashing him in the left arm, shattering the bone.

His arm fell limp and useless to his side, and he landed badly because of it, unable to duck and roll fully. A moment later, the outer wall of the inn toppled down around and on top of him. “Exploding Spirit Cut!” He tried to destroy the debris, before it could crush him, but the sheer volume and weight of the stone was too great as it rained down upon him.

Kanda fought to stay conscious, to breathe beneath the weight of the shattered stone and heavy, splintered oak beams pinning him. At least Hammer had retracted, which meant Lavi and the others must have reached one of the Ships. _Safe. Lavi and Allen and Lenalee are safe._ Nothing else mattered.

“You’ve been a very bad boy. Bad boys need to be punished,” a familiar, chilling voice decreed from just out of his line of sight.

_The Millennium Earl!_ He was here in Ship’s Haven, not just his Akuma! Kanda had to stop him, to warn his friends! But he couldn’t even move.

In the next instant, the Earl’s hideous, face towered over him. “Now I only have you, which means I have three new children to play with, when I should have had six. I’m disappointed. Daniel? Daniel my boy, where are you? You didn’t do as you promised Daniel, and now three of my playthings have eluded me. It’s time to be punished,” the Earl threatened.

So it _was_ the little shit! He’d betrayed them, poisoned them. Kanda bitterly realized he should have killed the boy when he had the chance, when he first threatened Allen, as his world faded in red and black agony.

0 0 0

_Don’t die, Yu._ Lavi whispered silently, in his mind, as he hurled himself and Allen and Lenalee away from Yu, on the handle of Hammer, fighting to retain control, as paralysis sought to claim him, even as it felt as if every nerve in his body was on fire. He hadn’t eaten any cookies, so the poison must have been in the tea, unless it was in both. If a single swallow had caused this, it was a miracle Lenalee and especially Allen, with all he had drunk, were still breathing. 

He headed for the clouds, to where the Ships had been before, hoping they hadn’t moved too far away, that Circus would be willing to help them again. He could barely feel his hands, though one arm was clamped around Allen and the other around Lenalee, and both hands were holding Hammer’s handle.

He almost sobbed in relief as he saw the glowing blue underbellies of the fantastic Ships. He headed for what he hoped was Ship Two, the portal the shuttle had left through, and he’d apparently arrived through, though he’d been unconscious at the time. They needed Dr. Akari.

Miraculously, he guided them safely through and into the Ship. Lavi let the three of them collapse onto the floor of the entryway, to the sound of a loud alarm ringing in his ears. He retracted Hammer, half dreading an Akuma would be on Hammer’s head, along for the ride, relieved when it was clear, as he shrank his weapon down to its smallest size, fighting to keep hold of it.

A flock of the Ship’s Sheep surrounded him, he thought to greet them, until he heard the words, “Unidentified, unauthorized persons, baa. Intruder alert, baa.”

He fought to speak, remembering Yogi telling him about the voice monitors, hoping they remembered his voice, but all he could manage was an unintelligible mumble, as the Sheep advanced on him, towering above him, from his prone position on the deck. Then a jolt of electricity flooded him, and the few remaining muscles that had been obeying his commands began trembling wildly, completely out of his control.

0 0 0

Hirato broke away from Akari and ran for the door, and then flew down the corridor, heading for the entryway, Akari’s footsteps distantly pounding behind him, as first the Proximity Alert and then the Intruder Alert alarms sounded, almost simultaneously. When he reached the entryway, there was an entire flock of Sheep clustered around three prone figures on the floor.

His eyes widened, as he recognized two o f them, Lavi and the girl who had nearly killed him.

Her eyes in turn widened in alarm as she saw him, but she appeared unable to move, though it didn’t look like the Sheep had tased her.

He cursed as Gareki ran into the bay, his gun in hand, followed a moment later by Yogi. “Stay back,” Hirato cautioned, looking for other intruders.

“You stupid Muttonheads! They’re our allies,” Gareki chastised, as soon as he saw who was lying on the floor.

“Lavi-kun!” Yogi cried, heading for the redhead, who was jerking and twitching, apparently tased by the Sheep. “You’ll be alright in a few minutes,” Yogi assured him.

“Akack! Gangar!” Lavi cried frantically and unintelligibly. Hirato was surprised the boy could speak at all.

Gareki’s eyes widened. “Sheep, Security Override: Shepherd, ID three friends, entrybay, non-hostile. Attacking force converging, hostile. Repel borders,” Gareki ordered, as he ran to the monitor showing the outside of the Ship. “I think he said, “attack” and “danger”, he sounded just like Tsubame after a bee stung her tongue. I think he’s trying to warn us that… Enemy Varuga, the new ones! Over three dozen of them!” Gareki exclaimed, even as the Proximity Alert claxon that had sounded so briefly before sounded again.

Akari appeared, breathless and panting, and Hirato’s eyes locked with his for a moment in silent apology for the terror he was about to cause him. “All Combat Personnel, protect the ship!” Hirato ordered into the intercom, before leaping out the entry hatch, to the sound of Akari’s cry of denial. He’d just have to make certain he didn’t get injured this time, or hope that if he did, that Exorcist’s blood in his veins might still have some magic left in it.

0 0 0

Akari cursed again as Yogi leapt out after Hirato. “Gareki, call my medical team, I need three gurneys,” he ordered, as he checked the vitals of his three patients, even as a troop of Combat Personnel emerged from the corridor and rocketed out the entryway. Which meant they could expect additional casualties soon.

“Pazan…. Ha….Cakas,” Lavi mouthed with exaggerated slowness, obviously trying to be understandable, as he struggled to point to the white-haired boy.

Akari turned to that boy next, trying to understand his significance, and then his eyes widened. He leaned over and sniffed his hair, which was stained brown in places by something sticky and wet and sickly sweet smelling. _Tea?_ Suddenly the words clicked. _Poison. Hair._ He had no idea what the other word was, but the three of them had apparently been poisoned, with the tea in the boy’s hair! Had they intentionally doused him in tea, so he’d have something to analyze? That was remarkably resourceful, something Gareki would have done.

He frowned as Lavi tried to worm his way towards the exit. Like Gareki, he was struggling to fight when he shouldn’t even be moving. Akari gripped him firmly. “You can’t help them.”

“Ya! Katha!” Lavi cried frantically, sounding anguished and desperate, as he struggled weakly.

Akari cursed. “Gareki, notify Hirato that the other Exorcist, Yu Kanda, is apparently still down there, wherever these three escaped from.”

“Got it,” Gareki replied grimly, and then he relayed the message.

Lavi stopped struggling, either trusting that they’d help, or unable to fight the effects of the poison any longer.

Akari’s team finally arrived, and the three patients were loaded onto the gurneys and rushed to Sickbay.

0 0 0

_At least this time we know what we’re up against_ , Hirato thought in grim satisfaction. They wouldn’t be blindsided by that virus again, and hopefully they wouldn’t lose anyone else to it. Hirato felt a wave of relief as Ship One’s Combat Personnel joined his own in the air.

He couldn’t blame Lavi for bringing this enemy to their doorstep. If they were in the City, they would have eventually fought them in any case, and the boy had been in no condition to aid his friends in any other way.

That white-haired boy must have been Allen. Allen Walker. The boy his father had raised like a son, to all intents and purposes the brother he’d never met, though they weren’t related by blood. That he might never meet. He hadn’t looked like he was alive.

He cursed as he was tackled midair, barely keeping from braining Tsukitachi, when he belatedly realized it was a friend, not a foe. The reason for the unexpected attack became apparent as two nearby Akuma exploded.

“I won’t even ask what you’re doing out here, I can see you’re somehow able to fight, but if your head’s not in the battle, get back on your damned Ship!” Tsukitachi yelled, infuriated, before diving away to help one of his crew.

“And that’s another reason Circus brainwashes all memories of family from you,” Hirato said grimly, as he forced all thoughts of Allen from his head, and concentrated on the battle.

0 0 0

Yogi fought to keep from shaking, as Tsukitachi knocked Hirato out of the way of the pink beams just in time. He’d been just too far away to save him himself, and had been certain Hirato would be incinerated, or wounded and then turned to dust, even as his thoughts turned to those still aboard the Ship. _Is Lavi still alive? Are his friends?_

0 0 0

They’d destroyed the remaining Akuma in the City, the ones that hadn’t attacked their Ships, after dealing with the ones in the air, but it was a hollow victory. The Akuma had leveled ten city blocks, leaving chaos and carnage in their wake. Hirato instructed a handful of his men to inspect the epicenter of the devastation, where the blast damage seemed to be the worst, as they dug through the rubble for survivors.

Hirato’s eyes narrowed as he saw a familiar crutch half buried in the rubble, cementing his thought that this was where the battle began, where the fourth Exorcist had been. There was no sign of him now, at least, not yet. They were still digging a number of bodies out of the rubble, but finding just as many empty sets of clothes, those who had been injured by the Akuma weapons and turned to dust, leaving only their garments behind.

He almost hoped they’d find the Exorcist’s body or even just his clothes and a pile of dust. There was little chance he would have escaped and left these civilians to die. If he was missing, it was likely because he’d been captured. Which meant his Innocence would be destroyed, and he’d no doubt be tortured to death for the Earl’s amusement.

Hirato fought a shudder: with the boy’s fantastic ability to heal, the Earl would be able to torture him for weeks, months, even years, without him dying, an endless, inescapable cycle of pain and healing. He might not even be able to slip into the oblivion of madness, if his healing power cursed him to remain sane and cognizant.

His attention was drawn to a muscular, sobbing middle-aged woman, a bloody, limp boy clutched tightly in her arms. “I thought you were at the Market. I was going to scold you for running off. You can’t be gone too! Not Kevin and Angie and Carl and you! _DANIEL_!”

She’d lost a son, her entire family, it sounded like, husband and children. The Akuma were just as ruthless, just as inhuman, as the Varuga.

Heart wrenching as the sight was, just as disturbing was the fact that two of their own were missing: Jiki and Kiichi. They’d been conducting the tedious and time-consuming investigation of the abandoned warehouse Yogi and Lavi had been imprisoned in, but it had been hours since they last checked in, they weren’t responding to their communicators, and the tracking devices in those units were non-operational.

When a second team had gone to investigate after the attack, they’d discovered the warehouse itself was a shambles, apparently the site of a pitched battle. From Yogi’s earlier report, it didn’t appear he and Lavi had caused nearly that level of damage.

Tsukitachi was beside himself with worry about his two missing crew members. And he hadn’t even known Hirato was conscious, before he saw him battling in the sky, because Hirato had been too damned busy kissing and groping Akari to let his best friend know he was alright. He’d let him down, and likely unwittingly aided whomever had attacked the two members of Tsukitachi’s crew capture or kill them. Which was why attachments within and between Ships were not only frowned upon but actively forbidden by the Council.

_Damn it. We have to find Jiki and Kiichi. We have to find them alive._


	19. Whips and Chains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:   
> CAUTION – torture scene below.

 

Jiki regretted fighting his way to consciousness, when he realized the position he was in, where he was, and who was with him. He was chained to the stone wall of what was quite blatantly a torture chamber, and his Circus bracelet was no longer on his wrist. Worse, Kiichi was with him, chained opposite him, in full view, her bracelet gone as well.

He was relieved to see she was conscious, that she appeared alert. During the battle at the warehouse they had been investigating, she had been struck from behind with a single, brutal lucky strike, and instantly crumpled. It was the distraction of seeing her fall that doomed him as well. His own body was an aching mass of bruises, and possibly some hairline fractures, though fortunately internal injuries seemed to be at a minimum. From the feel of it, so far he had a bruised kidney at worst: nothing life threatening or debilitating.

A quick scan of the room revealed to his dismay that they weren’t alone. The Exorcist prisoner that Captain Tsukitachi had him guard Akari from in Sickbay was also there. That he’d been captured a second time served to lower his already poor estimation of the boy and provide a further obstacle. They’d need to rescue him, when they escaped. The two others in the room would be some of those they’d be escaping from.

“Ah, and my second toy has awakened,” the smiling, gray skinned, bat-eared freak said, with a chuckle that made Jiki’s skin crawl. “Excellent! It’s finally time for us to play.” He looked meaningfully toward someone who was raking coals a few steps away, and then positioned a branding iron within them.

The man turned with the sadistic grin of a creature who lived to inflict pain, and Jiki cursed himself for waking, or at least, for letting them see he had, when they both turned to Kiichi. Jiki knew the grinning madman, the self-important Varuga who had introduced himself as the Millennium Earl just before Jiki lost consciousness was going to torture Kiichi, to force him to cooperate or talk, to betray Circus.

The worst part of it was that it would work. He’d suppressed it during battle, as he always did, but his chivalrous streak and compassion would be a terrible liability in their current situation. He wouldn’t be able to bear seeing Kiichi bound and helpless and methodically tortured, and because of it, that monster would hurt her worse, to encourage him to speak.

But Kiichi was tougher than he was, colder, harder. She’d be able to see him hurt, without caving. She’d been hurt less badly when they were captured, too. If he drew their attention to him instead, she’d remain relatively uninjured, and better able to fight. When the opportunity came to escape, she, at least, would make it out. These monsters already thought he was a wimp, a pretty boy and a dandy, from what they’d taunted when they ambushed and overwhelmed them. He’d use that to his advantage, play it up, make it believable, and put his consummate acting skills to the test.

They were chained to the wall, their Circus bracelets taken. Escape wouldn’t be easy. They’d have to wait for the right opportunity, for fetters to be unfastened to strike. At the very least, stall for time as long as possible. Their comrades would find them eventually: if escape proved impossible, it was their job to live until help arrived. Circus had invested too much in their training for them to die such a pointless death.

The Earl stood behind the torturer, a lower level Varuga, or a sadistic human, Jiki wasn’t sure which. Jiki forced himself not to tense when the torturer started, with a simple punch to Kiichi’s face, one that left her turning her head back and staring at them coolly, and him secretly raging inside, even as he gave a carefully choreographed, shaky exhale of relief, that she was the one they were harming.

The torturer smiled and punched Kiichi in the stomach, hard enough that she bent forward in her chains, and was left gasping for breath. She straightened resolutely and too quickly. She should have let them see it affected her, to stop being so damned stoic. There was a time and place for that, and this wasn’t it. She was forcing them to be more brutal.

The hideously smiling Earl looked over at him, and took a single step in his direction, and Jiki flinched, and quickly broke eye contact, looking down at the floor. Just like the description he’d heard of fishing: let the fish nibble at the bait long enough, and as soon as it was securely hooked, reel it in. Picturing this fat bastard with a steel hook piercing his jaw helped keep him from speaking too soon, from overplaying his hand, so he kept the bizarre, sadistic image in his mind, ready to expand upon it later, when he’d most need it.

“Don’t you want to see what we’re doing to your pretty little friend?” the Earl asked, his voice slithering over Jiki like a snake.

He shook his head silently, keeping his head down, eyes averted, knowing the lack of verbal answer and eye contact would likely annoy the Earl. He heard footsteps approach and a moment later, a gloved hand grabbed his jaw, the fingers like a vise, as they forced his head up.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Jiki allowed his fear to show in his voice, not fear for himself, but his fear for Kiichi. As expected, Kiichi thankfully remained silent.

“It’s rude to not look at someone when they are speaking to you, or to fail to verbally respond,” the Earl scolded, as if he were an exasperated parent, teaching manners to a five year old child.

“I’m sorry!” Jiki apologized, shivering for effect.

“Much better. What a polite young man you are, with the proper persuasion,” the Earl gloated, the gleam of threat clear in his eyes. “Would you like to have a little chat with me?”

“No! I m…. mean, no sir, please. I… She’s far more important than I am! She’s higher ranked, more valuable as a hostage. She knows more!” Jiki claimed, anxious not to overplay his hand, as he drove the hook in deeper.

“Really?” the Earl asked, sounding intrigued.

Jiki was an expert at the interrogation of prisoners, though he’d never been on this side of the equation before. He knew the psychology of the single word question, which encouraged the prisoner to speak, to fill the void of silence left by the challenge hanging in the air. It was exactly what he’d been hoping for. He hated comparing himself to Captain Hirato, since every time Tsukumo visibly did, she found him lacking, but their superficial resemblance to one another would make his claim more believable, raising his value as a hostage, while sounding like he was trying to lower it.

“I only made it into Circus because my uncle Hirato is Captain of Ship Two, because my mother wheedled and begged him,” he complained resentfully, his mouth snapping shut on his next planned words, and his shudder real this time, at the sheer malice that radiated from the Varuga in front of him like a palpable wave.

“Your mother is Mana Walker’s daughter?” The triumphant glee in his voice was terrifying.

Jiki had no idea that was Hirato’s father’s name, but the reaction left little doubt. He nodded yes instinctively and then yelped as the Varuga’s eyes narrowed at the silent slight. “Yes! Yes sir! But he didn’t want me on his own Ship, so he called in a debt and foisted me off on Ship One. Captain Tsukitachi treats me like I’m some kind of joke because of it. He never takes me seriously. That’s why I was down here, investigating that empty warehouse, because it was drudge work no one else wanted to do, and he sent Kiichi along to watch over me, because he was afraid I wouldn’t be thorough enough.”

The Earl turned to the torturer. “Forget the girl, for now. This is the one we want,” the Earl crowed in delight.

The reassuring image in his mind of the Earl helplessly flopping on the deck of a ship with a hook through his jaw instantly shifted, and for a moment, Jiki saw himself, nailed to the deck with a harpoon, before he forced the image away. By mentioning Hirato’s name, and faking a relation to the man, it was belatedly apparent that he’d unfortunately overplayed his hand. There was obviously both history and bad blood between the Earl and Hirato’s family, of which he hadn’t been aware.

_Damn it._ Hirato wasn’t even here, and still he was thwarting him at every turn, by his very existence. This was going to hurt.

0 0 0

Kanda fought his way to consciousness, regretting it the moment he achieved it. His broken arm and other injuries felt nearly fully healed, so he knew he’d been out for a while, but now he was chained to a wall, in what appeared to be a torture chamber, from the equipment he saw and the screaming and begging he was hearing. He looked cautiously about and was stunned to realize he knew the face of the burnt, bruised and bloody victim strapped to the torturer’s bench: Jiki. He’d been sent by the red-haired Ship Captain to guard the doctor from him, when he’d been in Sickbay, before he was locked in that other room. When he’d met him, Jiki had been arrogant, aloof and disdainful, but now he was groveling and whimpering pitifully.

There was a girl too, chained to the wall with a clear view of the victim. She appeared untouched, save for a single bruise on her face, and remarkably unaffected by the scene in front of her, disturbingly so. Even Kanda felt a tiny measure of pity for the boy, even if only for his weakness in the face of overwhelming pain. He would never have screamed, of course. He had never given his various torturers that satisfaction.

“That’s enough for the moment. We’ve recorded ample evidence of his torment for our message, and it looks like our new toy is finally awake,” a chillingly familiar voice announced gleefully, as the torturer immediately stepped away and an all too familiar figure emerged from the shadows: the Millennium Earl.

The boy’s head lolled in his direction, and Kanda was surprised to see sharp, inquisitive golden eyes peering at him from the tear streaked face, before Kanda’s eyes flicked from his face back to the form of the Earl. Had Jiki feigned his terror, his screams? To what purpose? Had doing so somehow protected his comrade from a similar fate? His estimation of the boy rose.

He tensed as he saw the Earl lift Mugen out from the shadows behind him and heard the familiar hiss of his blade being drawn from its sheath. “It’s a beautiful blade, isn’t it? But I doubt it contains the Heart. It let you be captured far too easily. Would you like your Innocence returned to you? I will do so, for a small price. Allen Walker is in this city. He appears to have fled with your fellow Exorcists only moments before my arrival. The three of them left you to face me and my Akuma all alone. I understand from my sources that you aren’t very well liked, Kanda. I would think you would be eager to punish the comrades who abandoned you to my tender mercies.”

Kanda didn’t deign to respond to such a ludicrous statement. Instead, he looked away, as if bored, careful not to let his gaze fall on either of the other prisoner’s, lest the Earl take revenge on either of them for his arrogance. He was certain now that the boy had done the same, drawn the Earl’s attention to himself and then kept it by putting on such an amusing performance, to spare his companion similar pain. It was noble and chivalrous, self-sacrificing and foolish, something Allen or Lenalee would have done. Although in so doing, he had ensured at least one of them remained capable of combat, so perhaps not so foolish after all, he grudgingly admitted.

His gaze flicked back to the Earl, whose eyes had narrowed. He was obviously not used to being ignored.

“You’re a cold one, aren’t you?”

The door to the room opened, and a pair of men, or more likely, Akuma in human form, entered.

“You have captured the other three?” the Earl asked eagerly.

“No, Master. They sought sanctuary in the Circus Ships and our forces were obliterated by their soldiers,” one claimed.

The Earl scowled darkly and the two men flinched, but then he smiled. “It seems I have found a new use for my two hostages. It appears I won’t be sending them to Kafka after all. Instead, I will exchange them for the three Exorcists.”

That had Kanda’s attention. Circus had no reason to protect Allen, Lavi and Lenalee, and every reason to exchange them for their own people. Lavi had attacked their Ships, accidental as that attack was, and Lenalee had attacked and injured their crew, when they tried to capture her, quite severely, from what she told him. Circus didn’t know Allen at all, other than as one of Yogi’s victims.

“Wash the blood off that one and give it new clothes. Make it more presentable. We’ll use the recording to threaten them, if it comes to that, but they will likely want to speak to them, to ensure they yet live.”

The Earl turned to face Jiki. “If you wish to remain alive, and in a single piece, Jiki, you’ll be careful what you say about our treatment of you,” he threatened in an oily voice. “Unless I tell you otherwise, you were injured fighting us when you were captured, nothing more. By the time they learn otherwise, I’ll have what I desire.  Otherwise, this lovely blade will happily take an arm or a leg, or both to ensure you behave.”

“I won’t cause any trouble, I won’t say anything, I swear,” Jiki squeaked, shaking in terror.

“Excellent. I have more important concerns,” the Earl said, leaving the room, to Kanda’s frustration, taking Mugen with him.

“He won’t release the two of you. He’ll poison you, the way he did us, take my comrades and leave yours with your corpses. Or ambush them,” Kanda warned.

“Silence you!” one of the Akuma said, striding towards him angrily. He punched Kanda in the face, to emphasize his command, nearly breaking his jaw in the process.

Meanwhile, the other tore off the tattered remains of Jiki’s clothes and then dumped a bucket of water over him. Jiki coughed and sputtered, making the Akuma laugh in sick glee. Then he rubbed him with a rough looking garishly yellow towel, blood and sweat, dirt and likely some burnt and flayed skin coming off on it, from the way it dirtied, and how Jiki was yelping and writhing.

Jiki lay naked and shivering on the table when the Akuma was done “bathing” him. “Hey! Stop playing with that one and give me a hand dressing this one,” that Akuma complained to the one hovering beside Kanda, who was apparently afraid of angering the Earl by being too rough with him, without orders.

“Dress it yourself,” he sneered.

The other one began rummaging in a bin of clothes against the wall, likely clothes of previous victims, and he pulled out pants and a shirt that appeared to be at least three sizes too large. “Help me keep an eye on it at least. These Circus freaks are tricky. They killed dozens of us,” the one by Jiki complained.

“Tch. These two are pathetic. But alright, I’ll unchain it and watch it. You dress it,” the other reluctantly agreed.

The one Akuma unfastened the chains and stood hovering warily over Jiki, as if he expected the boy to attack, but he lay barely moving, save for his shivering, curling up in a fetal ball against the cold and pain, as soon as the chains were off of him.

“Hah! You’re scared of this thing?” the one who’d been near Kanda scoffed, as the other began dressing Jiki as if he was a ragdoll, though he yelped and jerked his limbs with every movement.

It was after both the pants and shirt were on, when their guard was at its lowest point, when they were convinced he was harmless, that Jiki attacked, springing from the bench with astonishing speed and ferocity, and attacking the Akuma who’d washed and dressed him with a move that would have snapped the neck of a human, and then leaping onto the second one.

“Look out! They’re not human!” Kanda yelled, struggling futilely against his chains, as the first one transformed with a roar, the undead monster’s metal skeleton unaffected by the attack that would have killed a man, the second one already transforming as Jiki attacked it. He aborted his attack and flipped out of the way just in time, diving towards the wall, towards the girl.

Kanda was about to curse him for his foolish sentimentality, the uselessness of the protective gesture, when to his surprise, the ring of keys the Akuma had used to unlock his fetters dangled from his hand, apparently snatched from the Akuma during his attack. He unfastened her right wrist manacle and shoved the keys into her freed hand, and then ran back to his opponents, obviously trusting her to free herself from the remainder of her shackles.

Jiki snatched up a branding iron from the glowing coals it was laying in and jammed it into the eye of the second Akuma with remarkable force for someone so small, but then he stumbled forwards, his injuries apparently having taken their toll, and adrenaline only being able to compensate so much.

“Behind you!” the girl and Kanda yelled simultaneously, and Jiki spun, not fast enough to dodge, barely bringing his arm up to counter the blow aimed for his head. There was an audible crack, and this time the boy’s scream of pain was involuntary and real. He let the force of the blow he couldn’t prevent knock him out of the way of the follow-up attack, as he stumbled backwards, his left arm now hanging limp and useless.

Kanda yanked and twisted in his manacles, his skin tearing and wrists slicking with blood as he fought to free himself, to help them. Every moment the battle took was a moment the Earl could return.

But in the next instant the girl entered the fray, wielding a second branding iron, cracking it against the metal skull of the Akuma that had attacked Jiki, again and again, until it fell, twitching to the ground.

Simultaneously there was a distinctive whistling sound in the air and a crack as a whip lashed out, astonishingly wielded by Jiki, who apparently still had some fight left in him, made more remarkable by the fact that, from the lash marks that had crisscrossed the boy’s torso, it was likely the very whip that had been used to torture him. It sang and struck again and again, lashing the face of the other Akuma, as the wounded boy methodically blinded its remaining eye, his strikes aimed with stunning accuracy.

Then the girl, finished with her own opponent attacked the blinded Akuma, bashing it in the head with the branding iron over and over as she had with the other one, until it too fell in a motionless heap at her feet.

“Well done, Kiichi,” the boy panted in praise. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he crumpled to the ground.

“Jiki! Damn it, you can’t collapse yet!” the girl bitched, as she barely caught him before his head hit the stone floor. “How am I supposed to carry you and fight our way free, without our bracelets?” she complained, even as she knelt and felt along his throat.

Kanda heard an audible sigh of relief as she apparently found the pulse she’d been seeking.

“Free me and I’ll help you,” Kanda urged. “Jiki knows me. If he was conscious, he’d tell you to help me.”

Kiichi glared up at him, and then hurried over, the keys in her hand. “I wouldn’t, if he hadn’t already told me to, when he was freeing me. You could have been anyone. If you betray us, I’ll kill you.”

He’d seen what she could do. It wasn’t an idle threat. “I won’t.”

“You carry him. I’ll defend us,” she ordered, snatching up the branding iron again, and then coiling the whip, twisting it, and threading it through her belt.

She reminded him of Lenalee, in toughness, but with none of the warmth or softness.

Kanda didn’t want to leave without Mugen, but he knew there was no way he could wrest his blade away from the Earl. He knew the Earl would destroy Mugen if he saw him, and then capture him, and kill him in front of the other Exorcists, to demoralize them. He refused to be used as a weapon against his friends.

He quickly scanned the available weapons and snatched up and threaded a poker through his belt, feeling marginally better for having some sort of weapon. Normally he’d carry the boy over his shoulder, so he could hold the weapon in his other hand, but with the damage that had been done to Jiki, that might well kill him.

He lifted Jiki. The boy was surprisingly small and fragile feeling in his arms. It was remarkable he’d withstood the Earl’s torture and then been able to fight so well. Kanda only hoped that he continued to fight, that none of his injuries were life-threatening or that cumulatively, they didn’t prove too much for the slender young man to survive.


	20. Ultimatum

“Captain, we’re picking up a transmission on a known Kafka frequency,” Lynnette stated.

“Can you decipher the message?” Hirato asked.

“It’s not encoded, sir. And it’s actually intended for you or Captain Tsukitachi. The introduction states, ‘Greetings from the Millennium Earl, to the Captains of the Circus Ships, Hirato Walker and Tsukitachi Cross,” she said, sounding flummoxed, both from the targeted transmission and the last names she’d never heard, that no one knew. “And there’s a video component as well as audio, sir,” she belatedly added.

Hirato had stiffened, hearing the Earl’s name and his own surname revealed to his Command Center crew. “I’ll take it in my cabin. Under no circumstances are you to share this transmission with Ship One. In fact, I want you to actively attempt to jam them from receiving this signal. And you are not to monitor this conversation. Is that understood?” he demanded icily.

“Yes sir!” she replied, looking at him wide-eyed.

He exited the room and flew to his cabin. When he reached it, he ordered the communication patched through, after setting his face into its habitual calm mask.

“Ah! This is a pleasure. I so looked forward to speaking with Mana Walker’s son,” the hideous face on the screen said in obvious delight.

“Millennium Earl. To what do I owe the dubious pleasure of this call?” Hirato inquired coolly, refusing to visibly react to his father’s name, and the fact the Earl recognized him on sight, and all it implied.

“That’s what’s wrong with children these days: always so eager, so impatient. Lacking polite civility,” the Earl taunted.

“I’m a busy man, Earl. As Ship’s Captain I have a host of duties I must perform,” Hirato countered, firmly claiming the respect to which he was entitled.

“Ah yes. Fighting in wars that do not concern you. Searching for missing crew members,” the Earl taunted.

A lead weight settled in Hirato’s gut. _Jiki and Kiichi. Damn it. Thank goodness Tsukitachi isn’t hearing this. He’s not nearly as skilled at concealing his emotions as I am._

“When a battle is brought literally to my doorstep, it becomes necessary to engage the enemy. My Ship was attacked by your Akuma. We defended ourselves, naturally,” Hirato said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“You provided sanctuary to certain individuals that are of interest to me. I, in turn, found two of your own missing children. I propose we exchange our respective guests, for the mutual benefit of us both,” the Earl suggested, sounding remarkably sane and reasonable for a sadistic madman.

“I’m afraid I don’t know to whom you are referring,” Hirato dissembled.

“I believe Allen Walker, Lenalee Lee and Lavi are currently enjoying your hospitality. If your concern is that Allen Walker is somehow a relation, Captain Walker, I must disabuse you of that notion. He is merely a foundling your father chaperoned for a brief time, nothing more. He should be of no consequence to you. You should be more concerned for your nephew. You may not value the boy, but I am certain your sister would never forgive you, if you allowed her son to meet an untimely end,” the Earl assured him.

Only years of masking his true thoughts and feelings prevented him from betraying the shock he felt. He didn’t have a sister, at least, not one that he knew of, though there could easily be a dozen or more out in the world, knowing his father. It took a moment to realize the Earl must be referring to Jiki. _Damn it!_ Why had Jiki risked such a dangerous claim?

The answer was immediately apparent: Jiki had no idea his family had a history with the Earl. Guilt flooded him. But Lavi was actually Tsukitachi’s half-brother. Was the Earl aware of that fact, or ignorant of it? Did he actually expect him to betray his best friend, to aid in murdering one of his family, in order to save one of his own? “I truly wish I had the three individuals you are interested in, but I don’t. Perhaps we could arrange another amenable trade?” Hirato proposed, baldly lying.

“Captain Walker, I know everything my Akuma know. I saw those three Exorcists enter your vessel. I want them back.  As I’m sure you’d like to recover your own crew members, Jiki and Kiichi. Such a lovely young boy and girl. I’ve so enjoyed… entertaining them,” the Earl said, his smile impossibly widening.

The deliberate, brief hesitation in his voice sent a chill up Hirato’s spine. _What has this monster done to them?_

“I despise not being shown the respect I deserve. Perhaps if I shared with you just a sample of the entertainment I have provided?” the Earl suggested.

His image vanished, and one of Kiichi and Jiki took its place. Kiichi was chained to the wall, and appeared unharmed, save for a single bruise which marred her cheek, at least in these images, but Jiki was screaming, his voice hoarse from it, his body crisscrossed with evidence of torture: whip welts, burns, cuts and bruises. He didn’t appear to be missing any body parts, at least, not yet, or not here, where he could see, but he was obviously in agony, not from the theatrical yet believable screams, but from the visual evidence. Then the picture vanished, the Earl’s once again replacing it.

“The girl is, for the moment, all but untouched, and so far, all that has been done to the boy will eventually heal. But I am not a patient man, Captain Walker. I want those three Exorcists. Or I will begin returning your missing crew members to you a piece at a time,” the Earl threatened, all trace of his former false joviality gone.

“Where and when?” Hirato asked. Tsukitachi would never forgive him if he got Jiki and KIiichi killed, or maimed. He’d never forgive himself.

0 0 0

Gareki stared at the screen of the transmission he’d intercepted in disbelief. That four-eyed turd couldn’t actually be planning to exchange the three Exorcists for Jiki and Kiichi, could he? When they were poisoned and helpless, after he’d just seen the man gleefully gloating about the torture he was showing them? Jiki was an ass, but seeing him like that, even realizing his reactions couldn’t be real, at least, not to that extent, that he’d probably been trying to save Kiichi, and it had worked so far, but… He’d looked like he’d been through hell.

Why had Hirato ordered that Tsukitachi not be told? What was he planning? If he tried something, Jiki and Kiichi would be the ones to pay the price.

Gareki headed to Sickbay, to see whether Akari had made any progress in diagnosing and treating the Exorcists, and to be there to defend them, if Hirato actually tried to take them. As he hurried through the halls, he ordered every Sheep he saw to come with him, so by the time he reached Sickbay, he had a sizable flock at his heels.

He was surprised when he didn’t see Yogi hovering outside of Sickbay, until he went inside and stood staring, stunned. Yogi was in Sickbay, standing over that redheaded boy’s bed, actually talking to Dr. Akari. Akari terrified Yogi, yet here he was, talking to him. And then Yogi bent over the bed, and said something to the boy, too soft for Gareki to hear, as he _caressed his face_.

0 0 0

“Let me help you,” Yogi said, as he brushed the hair from Lavi’s eye, after his own clumsy attempt to do so had only made it worse. Being unable to move properly was probably frightening enough, without being unable to see as well, especially since he was already blind in one eye.

Yogi turned in surprise and confusion when he heard what sounded like a growl coming from behind them. “Gareki…kun?” The warm greeting when he saw his friend turned into a question. If Gareki was a cat, his hackles would have been raised. _Why is he upset?_

“Dr. Akari found out what’s wrong with them. They’ve been poisoned, with at least three different varieties of Nightshade. If they hadn’t been so smart and put the tea into Allen’s hair, it would have taken the Doctor a lot longer to determine the toxin, and create an antidote and…” Yogi trailed off uncertainly. _Why is Gareki glaring at me like that?_

Gareki all but stomped into Sickbay. “We have to get them out of here, now, before Hirato gets here and does something stupid.”

“Absolutely not. They can’t be moved, not yet,” Akari insisted. “I only just administered the antidote I synthesized. Allen in particular can’t be moved. He’s still hooked up to the respirator. The level of the combined alkaloid toxins in his blood was, quite frankly, astonishing. His autonomic nervous system was grossly impaired. I almost couldn’t save him.”

“None of them are going to be breathing if Hirato gets his hands on them,” Gareki said shockingly.

“What are you talking about? Why would Captain Hirato want to harm them?” Yogi asked, stepping protectively in front of Lavi’s bed and looking nervously at the door.

“He’s made a deal with the devil, literally. He’s going to trade them for Jiki and Kiichi,” Gareki explained impatiently.

“What do you mean trade? You mean Kafka captured them?” Yogi demanded shrilly, unable to keep the panic from his voice.

“No, not Kafka. Someone called the Millennium Earl. He… he tortured Jiki. It looks pretty bad. But he’ll do the same or worse to these three. Jiki’s an ass, but he wouldn’t want other people to be tortured or to die in his place.”

Yogi shook his head in denial as Lavi struggled to sit. “Captain Hirato would never… would he? No. It has to be some sort of trick,” Yogi insisted, unsure whether he was trying to reassure himself or Lavi.

“It’s nice to see someone believes in me,” Hirato said wryly from the doorway.

Yogi’s eyes widened as Gareki spun. He half expected Gareki to draw his gun on Hirato, the odd way he was acting.

“I heard what you said,” Gareki accused.

“Did you? Then perhaps you also overheard the rest of the conversation? The fact that the Earl threatened to send Jiki and Kiichi back a piece at a time? Tell me, Gareki, if it was you, what body parts would you be willing to lose? An ear? A thumb? A hand? A foot? An eye? Your tongue?

“Stop it!” Yogi demanded, trying to suppress the terrible images Hirato’s words invoked.

“So you’re willing to sacrifice three strangers to save two members of Circus?” Gareki challenged contemptuously.

“Of course not. Even if they truly were strangers, which they’re not: two of them have rather close ties to Circus, and their absent friend saved my life. From what we saw in the City, he’s either been captured or killed, and for his sake, I almost hope it’s the latter. The Earl is quite literally a sadistic madman, and I’m not sure whether we’ll be able to find and save him. I was simply stalling for time. Oh, and by the way, Gareki, I would appreciate it if next time I receive a private transmission, that I make every effort to keep private, you don’t take it upon yourself to listen in on it.” Hirato’s voice was dangerously mild.

“It wasn’t only for you. It was for both you and Captain Tsukitachi. And they’re his crew. He should be the one to decide how to save them,” Gareki rebutted.

“You’re in a particularly bitchy mood, even for you. What else is bothering you?” Hirato challenged.

“Nothing. Isn’t you betraying and killing three helpless people enough?” Gareki accused.

“So what are you planning to do, Hirato?” Akari challenged. “I won’t allow you to take them to him, even for show. They’re still paralyzed and helpless, and the poison that was used... The toxin they ingested is a particularly vile combination of three distinct species of Nightshade. It’s absorbed into the bloodstream with remarkable rapidity, causing paralysis of the nervous and muscular systems, while at the same time inducing hallucinations and stimulating the pain receptors. In short, it leaves the victim paralyzed and trapped in a nightmarish hell of hallucinations and excruciating pain. They would have quickly been driven to insanity by it. Although in Allen Walker’s case, he received an overdose, and nearly died.”

“But you developed and administered an antidote? He’ll… they’ll all recover fully?” Hirato demanded.

“Yes. Now what are you actually planning, Hirato?” Akari demanded.

“Yogi, Tsukitachi and Gareki are going to pose as Allen, Lavi and Lenalee. The Earl expects them to be drugged and helpless. He’ll discover he’s mistaken,” Hirato proposed.

“You can’t risk Gareki-kun against someone like that!” Yogi insisted, panicked at the thought.

“Believe me, I wouldn’t if I had another option, but he’s the only one small, slender and pretty enough to even briefly pass for Lenalee. None of our current Combat Personnel can pull it off,” Hirato explained.

Yogi winced. Gareki was seething, glaring at both of them.

“So you actually are going to tell Captain Tsukitachi?” Yogi asked, trying to appease Gareki.

“Of course. Jiki and Kiichi are, after all, members of his crew,” Hirato said mildly.

0 0 0

Eva applied the last touches of make-up to Gareki’s face. The only reason he wasn’t scowling was because she threatened to break his already sprained arm if he distorted her masterpiece. She’d already skillfully transformed Yogi into Allen Walker, applying a replica of the odd red tattoo that bisected the boy’s left eye to Yogi’s face. She stepped back and admired her work. “What do you think?”

“I think Gareki makes a breathtaking girl,” Hirato smirked, in an attempt to relieve the tension of the others.

“Gareki-kun has always been beautiful!” Nai piped up in protest, making Gareki’s face flush from either anger or embarrassment, or more likely, both.

“We can’t do anything about your heights being off, but proportionately against one another, you’re alright, at least from a distance, and the hair and eyes are perfect, and we were able to alter their clothes to fit you.” They’d bleached Yogi’s hair white, which was going to be confusing, for a while, and given him gray contact lenses to wear. They’d given Gareki hair extensions and contacts, and a padded bra and replica boots. Tsukitachi’s hair was a little short, but otherwise perfect, and the eyepatch and green contact lens helped the illusion considerably.

“Eva will lead the attack and I’ll lead the rescue,” Hirato reminded them. The Earl wouldn’t let his prey escape, once he realized he was being tricked. Both he and Tsukitachi would be there, on the ground, to protect Jiki and Kiichi from retribution.

“It won’t work, even for a moment, not without this,” Lavi protested weakly, from his bed, holding up his tiny hammer. “Yogi, I’m entrusting this to you. The plan will immediately fail if the Earl can’t sense any Innocence. You’re the only one who can safely carry Hammer without me being there, though you won’t be able to wield it as a weapon. If things go badly and you need to distract the Earl, throw Hammer at him. He won’t be able to resist checking it for the Heart. Just please, find Kanda and save him. Bring him back with you.”

Lavi was sacrificing his future as an Exorcist to try to save his friend’s life. Hirato’s respect for the boy grew over the noble, but likely futile, sacrifice. Kanda wasn’t part of the bargain he’d struck. The Earl was keeping the Exorcist, if he had him. He hadn’t dared risk asking about him. Only Jiki and Kiichi were being freed. It was his hope that he and the others would be able to search the facility and find and rescue Kanda, before he was killed, but if the best he could do was save two of the three, then that was what he would do. As an Exorcist, Kanda was as much a soldier of any of them, prepared to die for his cause. He only hoped it wouldn’t become necessary. The boy had been Akari’s patient. Akari would never forgive him. But hopefully, by saving the lives of three of the Black Order’s four Exorcists, the Order at least would, if it came to that.

“I’ll bring him back for you, I promise,” Yogi said solemnly, accepting the priceless gift, one Hirato knew was as irreplaceable and nearly as precious to Lavi as his friend.

“Just… be careful. I hate that you’re endangering yourself like this,” Lavi said, his hand grasping and holding Yogi’s.

“We don’t have time for long goodbyes,” Gareki snapped.

Now Hirato realized the cause of Gareki’s dark mood. It wasn’t just the transmission. Gareki was blatantly jealous of the attention Yogi was paying Lavi. Gareki spun on the heels of his replica boots, and strode to the door with remarkable balance, but no grace whatsoever, until halfway across the room, his walk completely changed, and suddenly, as he closed the rest of the distance to the door, he was incredibly, believably a girl.


	21. Rescue and Retribution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:   
> The D. Gray-Man characters are under copyright or license by Katsura Hoshino, Shueisha, Madman Entertainment, Viz Media, Kaya Kizaki, TMS Entertainment, Funimation Entertainment and/or Manga Entertainment.  The Karneval characters are under copyright or license by Tōya Mikanagi, Ichijinsha, Madman Entertainment, Yen Press, Manglobe, Funimation and/or Manga Entertainment. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.
> 
> A/N:  
> My apologies for the unintentional and unexpected five month hiatus. I last posted in October 2016, and it’s now March 2017. Life has been challenging since July 2015, but it was the lack of internet access that finally stalled out my posting this and my other stories. I’m back now, and will be posting chapters once a week until this story is finished, usually on the weekends. Without further ado, here is Chapter 21.

 

 

“Mugen,” Kanda whispered, sensing his sword, feeling it call to him, the pull of the Innocence impossible to ignore. Kanda held his burden out to Kiichi. “Take him. I hear my sword calling to me. If I can retrieve it, I can provide the distraction you need to escape.”

The girl glared at him. “Are you insane? You’ll never survive if you split off from us!”

“It doesn’t matter if they kill me.” He knew that made him sound like he didn’t care whether he lived or died, but the truth was, he couldn’t die. At least, not permanently. Not until every petal of the lotus was expended. That was both his blessing and his curse. “Take him, or I’ll lay him down on the floor.”

Her eyes widened and she swung her branding iron to face him, as if she was going to club him with it.

“Don’t be ridiculous. If you brain me, you still have to carry Jiki, and you lose me as a distraction. You’re wasting time.” _Idiot._ “Your shipmates saved my friends. I’m merely trying to repay that debt.” Of course, this was more about retrieving Mugen. In spite of his earlier bravado, he couldn’t leave his Innocence with the Earl, knowing he’d destroy it. He hated Mugen, the Innocence that had destroyed his life, but there was no point to that life now without Mugen, not after everything he had sacrificed and endured. Although if Allen, Lavi and Lenalee were here, they’d no doubt argue the point. But Allen and Lavi had one another, and Lenalee already had a brother, Komui. They didn’t need him. He was expendable. He frowned at the knowledge. The hurt it brought. _Tch. I’m the idiot._

“I’ll come with you. We don’t know the way out anyway, so whatever direction you’re heading in is as good as any other. And if you somehow manage to retrieve your weapon, we’ll have an edge,” Kiichi reasoned, to his surprise. It was something Lavi or Allen or Lenalee would have said, to keep him from doing something they considered suicidal.

“There is a good chance, almost a certainty, that the Millennium Earl will be with Mugen,” Kanda warned, surprised that he, in turn, felt obligated to do so.

“You mean that fat freak who ordered Jiki to be tortured? He likely has our Circus bracelets, too. If I can retrieve them, I’ll be better able to fight. They might be where your sword is. We’ll see how well he fares against us in a fair fight,” the girl boasted.

“Tch. The Earl never fights fair. He tricks, deceives, overwhelms and destroys. But if you’re willing to come, I won’t stop you,” Kanda agreed, heading down the corridor, Jiki still in his arms.

Kanda hated that as they worked their way toward Mugen, they had to hide instead of fight, but it was when they were evading two Akuma in such a manner that they overheard a valuable conversation.

“… course not. Master is going to trick them, using two of us to impersonate the hostages. We’ll complete the prisoner exchange, capture the three Exorcists, and we’ll be able to attack Circus from onboard their own Ships. Meanwhile, Master will have four Exorcists, and we’ll still have the two Circus jokes to give to Kafka, to reinforce our treaty. Then Master will taunt the Black Order with his prize, broadcasting the destruction of their Innocence, as well as their torture and execution, to completely demoralize the Order. He’ll make certain they learn that Circus broke their treaty. At worst, their fragile alliance will be shattered, and at best, they’ll openly be at war with one another, for the betrayal. Either way, we win. That’s why…”  

Kanda glared at the girl, and as soon as they were out of earshot, he set Jiki down, facing her angrily. “Your people are betraying us, sacrificing Allen, Lavi and Lenalee to the Earl? You spineless fools! You’re dooming yourselves as well as us.”

Kiichi shook her head. “They would never do something so despicable. It must be a trick, a trap that Captain Tsukitachi and Captain Hirato are laying. Although I have no idea what treaty they’re talking about. I never even heard of the Black Order, until we came to Ship’s Haven.”

Kanda had never heard of Circus before now, either, or a treaty, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. The Generals or the Administrators could well have one that the rest of them had never been informed of.

“Regardless of what our respective organizations do, if you allow these monsters to drive a wedge between the three of us, here, now, then you’re playing right into the Earl’s hands. He’s trying to be divisive,” she argued.

“Fine. You can still come with me, and I’ll still protect you. But you carry Jiki,” Kanda compromised. He hadn’t trusted her to begin with, but now he did even less than before.

She glared daggers at him but carefully lifted Jiki. It didn’t even occur to him before she did so that she might not be strong enough to carry him, but she appeared more than capable of the task.

He hurried onwards, towards Mugen, not thrilled to have her at his back, especially with her angered against him, but somewhat reassured by the fact that she was encumbered by her friend.

0 0 0

Hirato, Eva, and four other Combat Personnel emerged from the shuttle just outside the hostage exchange point, in front of a number of old, dilapidated warehouses, carrying the three stretchers with their three fake Exorcists, just enough personnel to transport them, as agreed during Hirato’s negotiation with the Earl. Of course, every other able-bodied man and woman, the combined Combat Personnel of both Ships, were in the clouds directly above them, ready to swoop down and join the fray.

But there was no sign of their people, only the Millennium Earl, beside a bizarre piece of furniture, some sort of red and black checkered wardrobe. _Has he already realized the deception?_ “Millennium Earl. Where are our people?” Hirato demanded, hoping they were in one of the warehouses, determined to bluff it out as long as he could.

“Here, as promised, Captain Hirato,” the Earl said, opening the wardrobe. And out of it, impossibly, came five people, surrounding two others, shrouding them from his view.

_Damn it._ _It appears to be some sort of gateway, a dimensional portal, like the one we use to visit the Council. We won’t be able to locate and rescue Kanda._ And they’d have to be damned careful, or they’d lose Jiki and Kiichi, too. They couldn’t let them go back through the portal. They needed to destroy it, but he couldn’t risk transmitting that to their forces in the Ships, lest the transmission be intercepted. It would be his first target, and then the Earl. He wouldn’t allow him to escape from them through it. Which of necessity would doom Kanda. _Double damn._ He’d honestly thought they might be able to save him as well.

Hirato, Eva, and Lawrence tilted up their three decoys, Yogi, Gareki and Tsukitachi, and the men on the opposite side parted, revealing Jiki and Kiichi. To Hirato’s relief, they were both on their feet, looking the worse for wear, but to all appearances, still in one piece.

“Wait! Where’s Kanda?” Yogi asked softly.

Hirato turned to face him. “Keep quiet. He might be reading your lips. Kanda wasn’t part of the prisoner exchange and it’s doubtful now that we’ll be able to rescue him. Unless you want Jiki and Kiichi to die, continue with the plan.”

Hirato watched Yogi’s eyes widen in shock and fill with disappointment and betrayal, the light of hero worship fading. Gareki’s eyes narrowed, but he remained silent. Tsukitachi’s eyes flared, a bizarre combination of admiration and disgust in their depths. “Soulless bastard,” he muttered under his breath, without moving his lips.

Hirato knew they’d all have plenty to say, after Jiki and Kiichi were safe. _Damn it. My legendary luck has finally run out._ He felt a flood of self-revulsion. _Self-centered ass. Kanda’s blood saved your life. His death is on your head. His blood is now on your hands, as well as in them._ Hirato forced himself to turn and face the Earl, his face its habitual mask.

As agreed, the two groups began walking slowly toward one another. They were only a dozen steps from one another when something burst out of the portal. Hirato spun to target the threat, stopping and staring in shock when he saw Kanda running towards them, a sword in his hands, and a wave of white monsters emerging from it, but more astonishing, Kiichi, carrying Jiki, who looked to be either dead or unconscious, yelling, “It’s a trick! That’s not us!”

_Damn it!_ The Earl had mimicked their deception. “Attack!” Hirato ordered their airborne forces, as he targeted the portal, cursing as some sort of shield dissipated his attack harmlessly, even as the fake Jiki and Kiichi erupted into monstrous Akuma, and dozens of other Akuma emerged from the surrounding buildings and descended from the sky, engaging in battle with both their aerial and ground forces.

The Earl headed for Yogi, a frightening look of fury, determination and expectation on his face.

“Allen! Look ou… you’re not Allen!” Kanda accused, even as he attacked the Earl.

That inescapable fact became apparent to the Earl as well, when Yogi attacked using his Dornen Kiste, attempting to capture him in his vines. But they withered and crumbled from about the Earl, as if he were Death itself, even as Tsukitachi’s banshees swarmed him. Kiichi pressed Jiki into Lawrence’s arms and then spun and attacked the Earl with her scythe, as the Akuma swarmed to protect their Master.

Hirato turned back towards the portal and stared in horror as he saw Gareki head for it, afraid he was going to do something stupid, like enter it, but instead, he ran around to the back of it. The momentary distraction nearly cost Hirato his life, as an Akuma aimed all its weapons at him, point blank, but he was knocked out of the blast zone – by Kanda, he realized to his chagrin. The man who’d saved his life already, who he’d been ready to throw to the wolves. _But you saved his three friends,_ he reminded himself.

Kanda leapt gracefully to his feet. “Pay attention, idiot!” he scolded as he ran for the Earl, who was now heading for the portal.

_And that’s why both family and Shipboard attachments are frowned upon, because I was worried about Gareki, distracting me from the battle, the mission,_ Hirato thought ruefully.

Kanda dove for the portal only seconds behind the Earl, who disappeared into it, the Exorcist refusing to let his quarry escape. Hirato was astonished when Gareki tackled Kanda, preventing him from following, and both of them rolled, disappearing behind a grounded and crippled but not destroyed Akuma. Was that truly Gareki? Or had the Jiki or Kiichi mimic assumed his form?

“Clear the portal! It’s going to….“ Gareki yelled, his words cut off by a massive explosion, one which threw Hirato and a dozen others who were a little too close to the ground.

Fortunately, this time, though knocked off his feet, he wasn’t injured by the concussive wave of the blast. Hirato rose and gaped at the smoking crater where the portal had stood a moment ago. _Gareki!_ His momentary panic was assuaged when Gareki and Kanda both stood, the Akuma having apparently effectively shielded them from the blast _._

_Damned explosives enthusiast,_ he chided weakly, as relief flooded him. Gareki had managed to destroy the portal, but a moment too late: the Earl had escaped. _Which is my fault._ _If Kanda hadn’t been saving me, he’d have already attacked the Earl, and they would have still been fighting on this side of the portal when it blew. But at least the remaining Akuma will be easier to defeat, now._

As predicted, their forces soon overpowered and destroyed the Akuma. The Earl had evaded capture, but they had successfully recovered Jiki and Kiichi, and even Kanda, and thankfully, this time, miraculously, they hadn’t lost anyone.

As soon as the battle was finished, the shuttle left with Jiki and the other wounded, as well as Kiichi, under Tsukitachi’s order, though she had wanted to stay with them on the ground to aid in mopping up any potential stragglers.

“Tch. Stupid Princess,” Kanda griped, glaring at Gareki, obviously frustrated at losing his chance for revenge, neatly turning Gareki’s nickname for Kanda back on him.

“You’re welcome, idiot,” Gareki replied with a sneer, furious for being teased about the girl’s clothes he was wearing, and for not having his saving of Kanda’s life acknowledged.

“Gareki-kun! I was so worried!” Yogi cried, enveloping him in a big hug, typically at the worst possible time, and promptly receiving a punch to the head in retaliation for his overblown affection.

“How are Lavi and Allen and Lenalee?” Kanda asked Yogi, from the expression upon his face, hating to have relied upon them to save his companions and also fearful. Then his eyes widened, and his hand went to his sword hilt. “Why do you have Lavi’s Hammer?” he demanded, his voice deadly.

Hirato prepared to intervene, if necessary.

Yogi’s eyes widened in surprise at Kanda’s blatant hostility. “Your friends are all going to be fine! Dr. Akari was wonderful, and Lavi-kun was so strong and brave. Lavi-kun gave me his Hammer, to help trick the Earl, so he’d sense Innocence, and believe we were really them.”

“Lavi _gave_ you his Hammer?” Both skepticism and hurt were strong in Kanda’s voice.

Yogi nodded. “He said that if things went badly, I should throw it at the Earl, to distract him, that he wouldn’t be able to resist checking it for the Heart. Lavi-kun didn’t care if he lost it. He told me just to find you, and bring you back to him. And we did!” he squealed, wrapping his arms around Kanda in a warm hug.

Hirato winced in anticipation, but fortunately for Yogi, Kanda merely froze in his arms and then literally growled, pushing Yogi away.

“The Earl got away,” Tsukitachi complained, diverting Hirato’s attention from the byplay, for the moment.

“I’m well aware of that, you ass. But we got Jiki, Kiichi and Kanda back. So I’m claiming victory and calling it a job well done,” Hirato retorted.

“Tch. I doubt the Council will agree,” Tsukitachi warned.

“The Council will no doubt have my hide if not my command, for every single aspect of this mess, not the least of which is having strictly forbidden contact with the Black Order and confronting the Millennium Earl. Although hopefully the Earl will be more angered with Kafka than us, for foiling his plans by drawing us here. The last thing the Council wants or any of us needs is to be fighting a war on two fronts.”

Kanda stalked up to them. “I want to see my friends. And we want Hammer back.”

Hirato smirked at him. “Why, you’re welcome. It was our pleasure to save them. We didn’t mind at all fending off the dozens of Akuma that attacked us because of them. How good of you to express your concern. And we were happy to come to your rescue, as well.”

“Tch. You didn’t rescue me. I rescued myself, and then we warned you the prisoner exchange was a trap,” Kanda scoffed.

“Your people aren’t our prisoners, Kanda. They sought sanctuary with us, and we gave it to them. We analyzed the poison and produced and administered the antidote, and we tried our best to rescue you, though I will admit, we likely would only have been able to free Jiki and Kiichi, had you not taken action. I am glad they were both able to aid your escape,” Hirato prodded, unwilling to allow the hotheaded young man to overlook that fact.

Kanda nodded curtly, in apparent admission, and then to his surprise, grudgingly spoke. “Jiki and Kiichi are both valiant warriors. You’re fortunate to have them.”

Tsukitachi piped up. “Thank you. They’re both my Combat Personnel, you know, not his,” he said casually, claiming the praise rightfully due for Ship One. Then Tsukitachi looked Kanda in the eye, all joviality gone. “Truly, thank you for aiding in their escape.”

Kanda nodded again, respect and approval in his eyes for Tsukitachi that had been entirely lacking when facing Hirato.

_Honestly, why do people always prefer Tsukitachi over me? Am I really so bad?_ Then Hirato grinned. _Tsukitachi wasn’t the one Akari was kissing._ “Yogi, why don’t you fly Kanda back up to the Ship? I believe you have a weapon to return.”

Yogi looked warily at Kanda and bit his lip. “I’m not sure he’ll let me carry him.”

Kanda glared at him and strode over to him, and crossed his arms. “Fly me,” he demanded.

Yogi picked him up in his arms and took off. Hirato saw Gareki watching, fuming silently and Hirato sighed. The Black Order had definitely outstayed their welcome, in certain people’s eyes.


	22. Boyfriends and Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CAUTION - Extreme violence and gore below, and death of a child, after the point of view break (0 0 0). One paragraph summary at the top of Chapter 23 for those of you who choose to skip the end of this chapter.  
>  

Kanda hated being carried, but he tolerated it, for the sake of seeing the others. Circus had told him they were recovering, but he needed to see them with his own eyes, and he needed to see Lavi reclaim his weapon from the idiot carrying him.

As soon as they were inside the Ship, Yogi set him down. Kanda started to stride towards the corridor, but Yogi intercepted him. “You need to say, ‘I’m home,’ or the Sheep won’t let you enter,” Yogi ridiculously claimed, even as the Sheep clustered about them.

Kanda glared at him. “This isn’t my home.”

“Voiceprint recognized, baa. Access granted, baa. Welcome home, Kanda-kun, baa. Will you dance for us again, baa?” one of the Sheep bleated.

Kanda scowled at it. “I wasn’t dancing, idiot Lamb Chop,” he argued.

“So cute! Kanda-kun has made friends with you!” the idiot squealed.

Kanda drew Mugen and held the blade to Yogi’s throat. “Take me to my friends!” he demanded.

“Of course! Sorry!” Yogi apologized, annoyingly unintimidated by his threat. The Sheep, who were supposedly security for the Ship, from what he was told, didn’t seem to care he was threatening Yogi. Which meant they both knew he wouldn’t really harm him.

He silently cursed and sheathed Mugen. He wanted his friends, and he wanted to get off this crazy Ship full of talking Sheep, and away from these people, and he wanted this idiot to wash the fake cursemark off his face. He wanted to see the real Allen, his Allen, the one he lo…

Kanda growled, striding for the corridor, refusing to finish the absurd thought. If he loved anyone, it should be Lavi. Lavi had been his first friend other than Lenalee, since he began his new life, outside of Bak and Tiedoll and Marie and Daisya, and they were more a surrogate family. From the moment he met the annoying redhead, he’d forced his way into his life, with his stupid smile, and his infuriating teasing, and unwanted hugs, purposefully attempting to annoy him in every way possible, never giving him a moment’s peace, to think, to relax. _To brood, to sulk_ , Lavi’s voice chided in his head, his face in his mind’s eye lit with that eternally mischievous grin. Lavi was far more imp than angel. Maddening, frustrating, helpless, struggling, dying. They’d all been dying, and he’d been unhurt, but still powerless to save them. Kanda quickened his pace until he was all but running down the corridor.

Yogi darted in front of him. “This way,” he commanded, his voice full of concern and understanding, as if Yogi knew he couldn’t go a single second longer without seeing for himself his friends were alright.

Moments later, they entered Sickbay, the flock of Sheep streaming in behind them.

“Yu!” Lavi cried eagerly, omitting the customary “chan” in his excitement and relief, rising from his seat by Allen’s bed, only to wince and sway, catching himself on the chair arms as he sank back down onto the seat.

“Kanda! You’re safe!” Lenalee echoed, tears of relief filling her eyes and spilling down her cheeks, though she didn’t try to rise from her chair beside Lavi.

“Kanda!” a frighteningly weak but relieved and almost cheerful voice called from the bed, though Allen didn’t sit up.

Kanda ran to them. “What’s wrong with Bean Sprout?” he demanded.

“I can talk for myself, Bakanda. I just can’t move much yet. Lenalee was only just able to sit. But at least I can breathe now. I drank more of the poison, so it’s taking me longer to recover,” Allen explained.

Allen looked terrible, wan and frail, terrifyingly fragile, but his eyes were warm, though brimming with tears, and he was smiling. “I’m so glad you’re safe!”

“Tch. Of course I’m safe. You’ll recover fully? You’ll be able to fight again?” Kanda could care less if Allen could fight. He wanted to know whether he’d be able to move again. The thought of Allen lying paralyzed and bedridden for the rest of his life was unacceptable, too horrible to contemplate.

Allen lifted his left arm, trembling and shaking, his demonic looking red hand reaching out to pat his arm reassuringly. “I’ll be fine. They will too. We were given the antidote, but our bodies still need time to recover, that’s all.”

“Really, Yu, he’s going to be fine,” Lavi assured him, but the “chan” was missing again, and there was a sadness, a wistfulness far too much like loss in his voice.

“What’s wrong?” Kanda demanded, spinning toward Lavi. He saw that he was holding Hammer, Yogi apparently having slipped it to him while he was distracted with Allen, so it couldn’t be that. Then he realized Yogi was no longer in the room, and the reason for Lavi’s formerly inexplicable depression was painfully made manifest.

“Nothing, Yu-chan. Everything’s fine,” Lavi claimed, the missing chan finally there, but it sounded horrible, wrong, and his smile was so blatantly false that it set Kanda’s teeth on edge.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel about him, Idiot Rabbit? I know you can’t chase after him right now, but I’m certain Yogi would be more than happy to carry you off.” Kanda spoke the hated name like it was a curse. The thought of Yogi touching his Rabbit had Kanda fighting to keep from drawing Mugen. Lavi was his, not some idiot crybaby hugging tentacle-wielding stranger’s.

For a moment, Lavi’s face flushed and he looked trapped but then his eyes widened, first in confusion, and then in dawning understanding. “Yogi? You’re jealous of Yogi, because you think I like him?” he asked, a true smile lighting his face, more warmth and tenderness than teasing in his voice.

“You _do_ like him,” Kanda accused, hating how much the knowledge hurt.

“As a new friend, yes. But not the same way I like you, Yu-chan,” Lavi claimed, and this time, the “chan” didn’t sound teasing at all, but like a verbal caress.

“And how _do_ you like me?” Kanda challenged. _Why do you like me? What is there to like?_

“Stop that. Don’t think like that,” Lavi scolded, as if he could hear every silent, self-denigrating thought in his head.

Kanda knew he fortunately couldn’t. Lavi would have been crushed by the weight of his thoughts long ago, if he could.

Lavi rose, and Kanda started to back away, sensing a trap, the need to cut something or to run hammering through him, but his fight-or-flight instinct was aborted when Lavi started to crumple, and fell against him. Kanda’s arms instinctively slipped around his waist, to steady him, to support him, and that’s when Lavi unexpectedly wrapped both hands around the back of his head, pulled his face towards him, and kissed him.

Kanda’s mind silently screamed that Lavi couldn’t kiss him, that he couldn’t possibly want him like that, that it was because Lavi had been injured, because Lavi had been afraid he’d never see him again, that they’d both die, that the kiss wasn’t real. But his mouth and heart could feel it was.

Throwing caution to the winds, Kanda hugged Lavi more tightly and began kissing him back.

The sound of sniffling broke their kiss, and they both turned to the bed. Allen was lying there looking like his soul had been crushed, his beautiful grey eyes bright with tears, and a horrible, forced smile on his face. “S… sorry. I just… That’s so… w… wonderful, th… that you … h… have each other. I’m…so… h… happy.”

Kanda’s heart fell, and he looked in panic and desperation at Lavi. He didn’t want Lavi to be hurt, or angry, or misunderstand, but Allen was his too, theirs, and… Thankfully and unexpectedly he saw understanding in that beautiful green eye, and acceptance and agreement and love. Kanda exhaled in relief and they both leaned over the bed.

“Idiot Bean Sprout. Like we’d leave you all by yourself, to get into trouble,” Kanda chided, as he leaned over and kissed Allen on the mouth, feeling the gasp of his breath on his tongue, tasting the saltiness of Allen’s tears on his lips.

Then he pulled back and it was Lavi’s turn. “Honestly, don’t you have any self-confidence at all, Bean Sprout?” Lavi teased, dipping in for a kiss.

In the past, it had always irked Kanda nearly as much as Allen when Lavi had called Allen ‘Bean Sprout’, but he realized now that it was because he was jealous not of one of them, but of both of them, that without realizing it, he’d been afraid of losing them both, to each other.

Belatedly, Kanda turned to Lenalee. She was grinning, and blushing prettily. “I’m so glad you all finally realized!” she squealed in joy. “I’m sorry I’m intruding,” she apologized sincerely.

“You’re not intruding, idiot. You’re our sister. Aren’t you the one who told me it’s alright to kiss in front of family?” Kanda argued.

Her eyes shone impossibly brighter. “I did. But I wasn’t sure you understood,” she admitted, beaming in warmth, from the knowledge he considered her his sister. Then her lips quirked in mischief. “Does that mean I can kiss in front of the three of you?” she teased.

“Who is he? It’s not Dr. Akari?” Lavi demanded, frowning.

“Or Yogi?” Kanda growled, his hand reaching for Mugen’s hilt.

“Or Captain Hirato?” Allen asked, managing to roll over on the bed and look at her.

“It’s no one, yet. I was just wondering how difficult all four of my brothers were going to be,” Lenalee responded, smiling in satisfaction. Then her face fell. “Komui must be so worried about me. I’ve never been out of contact with him for so long. And the _Reliable_ never docked in Eastbrook, let alone Safe Harbor. What if he thinks we sank, that we were lost at sea?”

“We’ll rest and heal until we’re well, and then stay just long enough to make certain all the Akuma are gone,” Kanda proposed. “We fought the Millennium Earl, and defeated his Akuma, but he escaped, and his dimensional portal was destroyed. There are probably very few Akuma, if any, left in the city, but we can’t risk any being undiscovered. As soon as we’re certain it’s safe, we’ll head back to Headquarters.

Lenalee smiled and nodded, trying to be brave, but obviously worried about her brother. Komui was probably searching the globe for her, but they doubted even he would be able to trace her here, where she wasn’t supposed to be.

0 0 0

Komui’s eyes widened and his heartbeat quickened at both the promising sight of the tremendous number and diversity of ships in the harbor, as well as the ominous pall of smoke that hung over Ship’s Haven, as their ship approached the dock.

Bookman’s eyes narrowed, eyeing the smoke. “There’s been a battle. A large one. Recently,” he claimed, his words ringing with the conviction of someone who has seen many dozens of wars.

The two men and their small army of Finders disembarked as soon as their ship was secured and the gangplank lowered. “Search the City, starting with the piers. Look for their ships, and then fan out into the City. Report back to us by portable phone immediately if you find any trace of the three of them,” Komui ordered. “Four of you, come with us. We’re going to investigate what’s beneath that smoke. And have your talismans ready, everyone. Where there is battle and Exorcists, there’s Akuma.” He was glad he’d insisted Reever stay behind, as acting commander of the European Branch, though the man had balked at the order. Komui hadn’t truly expected they would encounter Akuma, though fortunately, they’d come prepared.

“Four of them. You’re looking for Bookman Jr., who you call Lavi, as well as Allen Walker, Yu Kanda and Lenalee Lee, and the _Perseverance_ , _Dragon Pearl_ and _Reliable_ ,” Bookman argued stubbornly.

“Yes sir!” they chorused, though more than one pitying glance was directed at his back. No one save for Bookman believed Lavi was still alive, regardless of how many battles he’d miraculously survived.

They’d only gone inland for a dozen blocks or so when they found their first battlefield. Or more likely, massacre site. They stared appalled at the incredible destruction. At least ten city blocks appeared to have been completely leveled, leaving nothing but rubble. There were dozens upon dozens of fresh vases of flowers and lit candles, shrines to the dead amongst the shattered buildings, and a swarm of people, not moving with the frantic intensity of those trying to save friends and family and strangers, or even the grim intensity of those searching for the dead, but scavengers, either searching for treasured heirlooms of their own or those profiting from the losses of the dead.

Komui turned to one of the Finders, Robert, forced to clear his suddenly blocked throat, before speaking in a voice rough with emotion. “Learn what you can, as gently as you can. Call at least a half dozen others here to help you. We’re pressing on with the other three.”

“Yes sir.”

“You!” a woman shrieked, a world of accusation in the single word.

Komui turned and was astonished to see she was pointing at Bookman. “It’s your fault those monsters came! I seen that coat on him! They killed everyone but him! They took him!” she screeched. She was old, her trembling hand covered in age spots, deep blue veins prominent beneath parchment thin skin, the knuckles of her pointing finger knobbed and white, thick with arthritis. She must have been nearly Bookman’s age, in a drab dress and tattered shawl, clutching a picture frame to her chest, the back of the frame facing them.

Komui’s blood ran cold. Monsters came and took a man in an Exorcist’s coat. _The Akuma. The Millenium Earl. They captured someone. Allen or Kanda?_ She’d said “him”. So it couldn’t be Lenalee. He didn’t want it to be anyone, but please, not Lenalee.

“If our men were here, it was to fight those monsters, not attract them. If any of you witnessed it, you’d have seen them fighting them,” Komui spoke now, to the crowd gathering around them, a potentially dangerous growing knot of men and women, angry, resentful, curious, accusing, lost, seeking answers, reasons, as much as they were, but with the potential to turn into an enraged, vengeance seeking mob. Their Finders positioned themselves to protect them if need be, with shields from their talismans. They didn’t want to harm civilians, humans.

“Wasn’t no fight. They just come, and killed and destroyed,” a weathered man claimed, on crutches, a dirty bandage around his leg.

“No, he fought. I seen him. He was as much a monster as those things, though, calling them white demons of his and blowing those things out of the sky,” another man claimed, younger, argumentative, glaring mistrustfully at Bookman.

Bookman’s eyes had lit with both hope and fear for a moment, which had flickered and died, the second the white demons were mentioned: Kanda, not Lavi. Or Allen.

“Did you see what happened to him?” Komui asked, fearing the worst, from the rubble, and what they’d already heard.

“That demon took him, the one with the umbrella and the white coat,” another man claimed, and Komui’s blood froze. _The Millennium Earl._ He was here!

Komui silently signaled to Finder Robert, and he pulled back to call the others, to warn them, and to tell them Kanda had been captured.

An older man in filthy clothes carrying a bottle pushed forward. “He was fighting them from a window of the Journey’s End, on the second floor, when the building collapsed. He jumped out the window just before it went, I seen him do it, but he fell anyway, and the building came down on top of him. But it weren’t his fault those things was there. I heard that monster in the white coat, clear as day, calling for that little shit Daniel, saying how he betrayed him, and didn’t do what he was told, and now he only had that one what was buried, that the other three got away, because of him. He said now he only had three toys to play with, instead of six,” he claimed, taking a deep drink from the bottle, then wiping his mouth with a dirt-encrusted hand. “He was the Devil hisself, he was, talking about people like that, as if they was toys. I done told you Daniel was the Devil’s own son, but none of you listened to me.”

Komui felt hope flare. Three got away. Kanda was taken, but three others escaped. Except… Allen and Lavi and Lenalee would never have left Kanda to be captured, no matter if he begged them to, and Kanda of course wouldn’t beg. And what did he mean six? They weren’t missing any other Exorcists or Finders, not that they knew of. The man was drinking, and had the look and smell of a drunkard. Could they believe what he said?

“Can any of you tell us about the other three? What they looked like, whether they were injured, where they were headed?” Komui asked.

“Let me through. I know,” a young female voice said. A teenage girl pushed herself to the front of the crowd. She opened her mouth and stood staring at Komui and then looked down, blushing furiously.

“Please. We’re trying to find our friends, our family. You said you know something?” Komui encouraged.

She looked up again, and blushed harder, but took in a shaky breath. “I thought he was the most beautiful man I ever seen, until…” She blushed darker.

“What did he look like?” Komui encouraged the shy but obviously smitten girl. Allen, Lavi and Kanda could definitely all be considered pretty by a teenage girl. That’s part of why he’d discouraged the three of them from getting too close to Lenalee. But that didn’t matter now. He needed to know who this girl had seen.

“Like a pirate. He wasn’t wearing a coat like him, just a sailor’s shirt and pants,” she said, pointing to Bookman, and Komui’s hopes dashed and he saw Bookman glare in annoyance at her for wasting their time.

“But he was sharing a room with the other three,” she added quickly, when she saw she was losing her audience. “Marlene told me he was, when I asked, with the handsome grouchy one with the bad temper, and the pretty girl with the long black hair in ponytails, Marlene said she was likely his sister, like two peas in a pod on the outside but one like vinegar and the other like honey on the inside, and then that sweet white-haired boy with the red tattoo on his face.”

_Lenalee! Lenalee is alive, she’s here!_ Or was alive. The rubble around them became more chilling. _Is Lenalee buried somewhere underneath? No, that other man said they escaped. I have to believe that. And this girl had described Kanda and Allen too._ He forced himself to pay attention as she continued speaking.

“Marlene said they was respectable, even with the three of them and her, all four of them together in a single room, that the white-haired boy had been with the nasty one at first, but as soon as the other two joined them, he’d asked for a rope and a blanket, so’s there wouldn’t be no shenanigans with the girl, though Marlene thought that was a waste, at first, the girl being so pretty and all, until she realized her brother wouldn’t let him near her.”

“What about the fourth one? The beautiful one who looked like a pirate?” Bookman encouraged, suddenly sounding like a kindly old grandfather, nothing like the irascible old man they knew.

“He had bright red hair, like a sunset, and the prettiest green eye I ever saw, and a voice like honey. He was wearing a green bandana and an eyepatch over his right eye. I asked him what had happened to it, and he told me he had seen a princess, once, and was so dazzled by her beauty, that he was nearly blinded by her, so he covered up his right eye to protect it, in case he ever saw another girl so pretty, and then and there he cupped his hand over his left eye and turned away, and told me he had to go, because his left eye was watering something fierce, and he was like about to lose it, if he stayed speaking with me,” she said with a dreamy sigh.

“Lavi,” Komui and Bookman chorused in unison, their voices full of both bemusement and relief.

“Do any of you know where the other three went, the ones who escaped?” Komui asked. “Allen Walker, the boy with the white hair and red star tattoo on his face, Lenalee Lee, the girl with the long black ponytails, and Lavi, the boy with the red hair and eyepatch?” he asked the crowd.

“No, but I gots something of theirs, if’n you’d like to buy it,” a young boy’s voice piped up.

“Please come forward,” Komui encouraged.

The boy was in threadbare clothes, bruises on his arm in the shape of fingerprints, with a black eye and gap-toothed grin. “You’s going to have to pay me lots for it, and I don’t gots it here. But I gots the white-haired boy’s angel-bird, what looks like a ball with a cross on it, and wings, but made of solid gold. I seen it fly, only it don’t fly no more, but it ain’t quite dead yet. It still moves, fluttering about on the floor of the cage I got it in,” the boy claimed. “It’s still valuable like, cause of the gold, right, even if it can’t fly no more?” he challenged.

_Timcanpy! He has Timcanpy! We can download his recorder, and see what happened to Allen and the others!_

“And I found one of them black and silver coats, too, only I don’t got that no more, but I can tell you where I found it, and the pants and boots might still be there. Although they was all cut up and covered in blood, but you might still want them, to bury or something,” he added, as if afraid his words about the angel-bird weren’t enticement enough.

The elation and hope Komui was feeling shattered. _Cut up, bloody clothes, Exorcist’s clothes. Kanda’s? Or Allen’s? Maybe it isn’t as grim as it sounds. Maybe they’re Lavi’s, which is why he was in sailor clothes instead?_ He only wished he believed it, although it would mean, somewhere along the line, Lavi had been gravely injured.

“My name is Komui. What’s yours?” he asked the boy, holding out his hand to shake.

“Mark,” he said, puffing his chest out proudly, and shaking hands. “How come you’s wearing a white coat and he’s wearing a black ‘un?” Mark asked curiously.

“Bookman is an Exorcist of the Black Order, a warrior or soldier. I am a scientist, a supervisor,” Komui said modestly. “We’re very interested in that angel-bird you found, we call it a golem, and in the clothes. Why don’t you lead the way? Finder Robert, please stay here and see if you can find out any additional information,” Komui ordered.

“Yes sir!”

“Bookman, why don’t you take one of the Finders and investigate that smoke? I’ll notify you immediately about whatever I learn from Timcanpy,” Komui suggested.

“I was just going to suggest the same,” the old man agreed. Then he was off, Finder William hurrying to keep up with him.

They walked for a few blocks, until they were away from the devastation. “Before we go any further, now that we is away from all those others that was watching, I want to see whether or not you’s got enough coin to buy that angel-bird, that golem thing with,” the boy challenged.

Komui was glad Bookman was gone. The boy’s capitalistic streak was disheartening. But they needed Mark’s cooperation, so he was willing to pay to retrieve Timcanpy. Besides, from the looks of the boy, he could certainly use the money. Fortunately, they’d come prepared with an impressive supply of the local currency. “How much do you think it’s worth, in the condition it’s in?” he asked.

“The question is, how much is you willing to pay? I think it’s worth two hundred silver to you,” Mark challenged.

Komui opened the bag at his side and dipped his hand into the bulging purse, and pulled out a handful of coin. “To show you I have it. I’ll count out the correct amount once I see the golem,” Komui promised.

The boy’s eyes lit with avarice. Then he began moving more quickly, leading Komui and his two remaining Finders to an area of the city filled with warehouses, talking a lot, but not saying anything of importance. He was very cagey about revealing anything, likely wanting to be paid for every word.

The warehouse the boy led them to was half destroyed, with splintered wood where walls had been and craters. “It weren’t like this before, when I first seen it,” the boy said with a shrug, as if it didn’t matter that there had obviously been a massive battle fought here recently. “See, there they is.”

The pants were stiff with dried blood and they and the boots were slashed to ribbons. The boots were definitely Lavi’s. Which meant he had indeed been seriously injured at some point. And he wouldn’t have voluntarily shed his Exorcist coat, no matter what shape it was in. He was glad Bookman wasn’t here to see, although he was beginning to regret sending him off. Komui was only armed with a gun, which would be of absolutely no use against an Akuma. “Be ready to pull back, to use your talismans for barriers or to run. Andrew, call some of the others, so they know where we are, in case something happens.”

Andrew unslung his backpack phone but then choked, clutching the thick harpoon that was suddenly protruding from his chest in disbelief.

“No!” Komui cried in horror, as Andrew reached a bloody hand toward him, mouth opening closing soundlessly. Komui caught him as he fell, but he died in his arms, blood gushing from his wound, as dozens of human looking figures appeared all around them.

“What did you do that for? You didn’t say nothing about killing them! You told me to bring them to you here, and you’d arrest them and pay me for them, so’s I’d get my revenge for what they done to Daniel!” Mark yelped, but far more terror than complaint in his voice.

“We told you to bring us Exorcists, boy, the ones in the black coats. These three are merely support staff, worthless to us. We need Innocence, to appease the Earl,” one of the men explained contemptuously.

“There was one of them, the black coats, but he left for the smoke I seen, that big battle there was! But he’ll come back, if they call him! This one in the white, ‘e’s valuable too! Tell him!” Mark begged, turning towards Komui. But in the next moment he was gasping as a harpoon pierced him in the chest, this one clearly coming from what had been the man he was speaking to a moment ago, as a writhing sea of harpoonlike tentacles erupted from his body.

“No!” Komui yelled in horror. The boy had betrayed them, but they’d obviously tricked him, and he was only a child. Akuma, they were Level 2 Akuma, maybe even Level 3.

Komui tried to draw his gun, even knowing how ineffective it would be, knowing he was about to die, but determined to go down fighting, but to his shock, Finder Nicholas grabbed and pinned his arms, even as he put his own body between him and the monster.

“Wait! Don’t kill him! This is Chief Komui, the head of the European Branch of the Black Order! He’s a valuable hostage!” Finder Nicholas yelled in desperation.

“Really? Interesting. But you aren’t,” the Akuma said, and with his final word, Nicholas’s head went flying, his jerking, twitching, decapitated body falling at Komui’s feet, the blood spurting from his severed neck drenching Komui as it fell.

Komui stumbled back, shaking, lifted the gun, and tried to fire, knowing the futility of it, knowing he was about to die, but the weapon was wrenched from his hand as he was pinned by hands and other appendages.

“For your sake, you better be as valuable as he said you are, or we’ll kill you much more slowly than that filth,” the monster sneered, as Komui was dragged away from his dead men.


	23. Wary Allies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the unexpected delay in posting again. For those of you who skipped the end of the last chapter due to the violence and gore, Komui’s two Finders and the boy Mark were killed by what appeared to be Level 2 or 3 Akuma, and Komui was captured.

Bookman observed the brightly dressed, well-armed strangers, scattered about the blatant battle site, noting the oddness of their clothing and incongruent technology level immediately, his eyes widening at the implication. _Can this truly be Circus?_ Then he saw what could only be one of their small flying ships, and he was certain of it.

“What have we here? Another Exorcist? Tell me, has your entire Order decided to grace us with your presence, for some reason?” someone joked from directly behind him, appearing out of thin air, unseen, unheard.

Bookman spun, ready to attack if necessary, and gaped in shock. _Lavi! No, it’s not._ But the resemblance was uncanny, and the style of dress unmistakable: he was a Captain in Circus, and from his features, almost certainly the son of Black Order General and former Circus Captain Marian Cross. “Captain Cross, I presume?”

The man scowled, as if he’d just gravely insulted him somehow.

_Am I mistaken? No, he is most likely miffed that I don’t appear to be startled or flustered by his unexpected appearance._

“Hirato, we’ve another one!” he called.

This time Bookman was watching and still saw the second man literally appear out of thin air in front of him. _Another Captain, by the look of him._ In fact, his face too was quite familiar. “Captain Walker,” Bookman greeted, even after all these years of dispassionate control having to fight to keep the smug superiority out of his voice at his brilliant deduction.

“You’re a bit late you know. You missed all the fun. The Millennium Earl has already fled,” Cross criticized.

Bookman’s eyes actually widened ever so slightly in surprise, showing the merest hint of his astonishment. “It was my understanding that Circus battles Kafka and the Varuga, and the Order battles the Millennium Earl and his Akuma. Or has the Treaty been rescinded, without my knowledge?” _Preposterous._ _As Bookman, I would have heard if it had been._

“Yes, well, there were some regrettable misunderstandings and incidents between us and some of your Exorcists, and then to top it off, they unfortunately led a host of Akuma to our doorstep, which further brought us to the Earl’s attention. But due to extenuating circumstances, none of us are holding any grudges against one another for everything that’s happened,” Captain Walker stated.

“Speak for yourself, Hirato. I’m still miffed at my baby brother for blasting two holes in my Ship,” Captain Cross complained.

“I’d be very interested in hearing the details of what has transpired here, and I would also welcome your assistance in helping locate the other Exorcists in this city. In particular, it sounds like you’ve met my apprentice, Bookman Jr., or Lavi.”

“Yes, well, first we need some proof that you really are an Exorcist, and not one of the Millennium Earl’s spies,” Captain Walker challenged. “I assume you have some sort of Innocence weapon you can show us?”

“Yes, but I doubt you would recognize it as such. Any of the other four who are here would be able to vouch for my identity,” Bookman suggested.

“Captain, I’ve found another spy. He appears to be human,” a towering, buxom woman dressed in pink with a bare stomach and blue hair announced, Finder William dangling by the back of his collar from her upraised hand as if he were an errant kitten, his arms and legs securely bound and a gag about his mouth.

“He’s harmless. My Finder, William,” Bookman explained. He was annoyed with the man for being caught, but could hardly complain, considering he had also been discovered. He was mildly pleased that she’d captured the Finder without appearing to harm him.

“I’m afraid the only Exorcist who would be able to come down would be Kanda, and he only just returned to our Ship,” Captain Walker stated.

Bookman frowned. “Why are our Exorcists on your Ship, Captain Walker, and why are three of them unable to leave?”

“It’s Captain Hirato, actually, and Captain Tsukitachi. Our last names are not widely known and we would appreciate it if you don’t use them again,” the man chastised, not answering his question.

“Why is my grandson Lavi on your Ship, Captain Hirato?” Bookman demanded.

Captain Tsukitachi’s eyes widened. “Grandson? You’re Lavi’s grandfather?”

“Yes. And his Master. He is my apprentice, as I stated,” Bookman replied. He hated having to repeat himself.

“He and the other two were poisoned, by the Millennium Earl,” Captain Hirato replied, his voice casual and relaxed, but his eyes keen.

“Poisoned? You must let me see them. I can help them,” Bookman insisted, trying to remain calm, detached, as his heart filled with dread. All Lavi’s training and strength was worthless against poison as a foe. _Lavi. I can’t lose you too. I can’t lose another apprentice._

“We’ve already treated them, and administered an antidote. How about I call the Ship, and allow you to speak with Lavi? If he can verify your identity, we’ll take you to them,” Captain Hirato proposed.

“Yes, that is acceptable,” Bookman agreed, nearly drowning in a wave of relief. They’d administered an antidote, and Lavi could speak, which meant he was recovering.

The Captain called his Ship, and requested to speak to Lavi, and then told him they needed him to confirm the identity of someone who claimed to be a fellow Exorcist, and wished to speak with him. Hirato handed Bookman his communicator and he took it gingerly. He was shocked and impressed to see there was picture as well as sound, as Lavi’s face appeared, his skeptical expression immediately changing to his customary cocky grin. “Panda! What are you doing in Ship’s Haven?” the impudent rascal asked.

“What am _I_ doing here? You disappear for _weeks_ without calling, you fall off your ship into the ocean, and you expect us to just let you vanish?” Bookman demanded, infuriated, fighting against the tears of relief that threatened.

Lavi had the decency to look contrite. “I’m sorry.  I had no way of calling. There are no phones here and I got separated from my Finder and none of the others have one here either. But I used the meditation I learned from you to survive being a castaway, and I’ve been busy fighting,” he defended, and then he looked embarrassed. “Although not Akuma. But that’s not my fault, either,” Lavi hedged.  “Did Finder Petros make it back safely?”

“He nearly quit the Order, because he thinks he failed you, idiot! Everyone but me was convinced you were dead, and here you are, lounging around aboard a Circus Ship! I’m coming up there, and you’d better be ready to leave when I see you,” he threatened, eager for the excuse to finally set foot upon one of their fantastical flying machines, and annoyed Lavi had done so first.

Lavi looked chagrined. “I’m sorry, but I can’t walk yet. We were poisoned, paralyzed, but also, my legs were injured. Allen and Lenalee are still recovering too. Kanda is the only one who’s on his feet.”

For Lavi to admit he couldn’t walk, and to be so impaired, he must truly have been all but crippled. “Injured how?” Bookman demanded, glaring at the Captains. Neither of them had mentioned that.

“A battle that turned out to be a misunderstanding. It’s not their fault. But my legs were cut pretty badly. I could walk with crutches, before I was poisoned, but not particularly well, though I still managed to hold my own in battle and defeat my opponent, and then escape from Kafka. They’re Circus’s usual foe. Their Varuga are similar to Akuma,” Lavi explained defensively.

Bookman scowled. _I know full well who Circus and Kafka are, you impudent pup! Though I suppose in this instance, your ignorance is excusable, as I have not taught you about them yet, and that knowledge is forbidden to all but the highest ranks of the Order. Perhaps once we are done studying the war against the Earl, we will join Circus or Kafka, to observe their war? The side we choose does not matter. But that is a concern for another time. I need to see you, to treat your injured legs._ “Do I pass your test, Captain?”

“Yes, it appears you are genuine. Are the two of you, you and your Finder, the only new faces we’ll be seeing?” Hirato asked.

“No. We brought 48 Finders with us, to search for our missing Exorcists. And Chief Komui, the head of the European Branch of the Order came to coordinate the search,” he added. Bookman was surprised to see Captain Hirato stiffen at that, though when he looked at his face, he appeared completely uninterested.

“Komui! My brother is here?” Lenalee asked excitedly, from the communicator, as her face suddenly appeared on the tiny screen. “Is he with you?”

“No. We found the site of another battle, a large area of collapsed buildings, where you’d apparently been staying. We met a boy there, who said he could lead us to Timcanpy, and to some clothes that belonged to one of you,” Bookman stated.

“A battle near the Journey’s End? Was his name Daniel? An outspoken boy with brown hair and eyes?” Lenalee asked.

“No. His name was Mark. But the people we spoke to said a boy named Daniel was one of the dead,” Bookman replied feeling mildly guilty for his words the next moment, from Lenalee’s reaction.

“Dead? Daniel’s dead? Oh no! He was so young and sweet. Poor Marlene must be devastated!” Lenalee cried, her eyes welling with tears.

“Don’t waste your tears on him. That little shit is the one who poisoned you,” Kanda growled from off-screen.

“How could you say that?” Lenalee cried, indignantly.

“Because it’s true. It’s his fault the Earl destroyed the inn. He attacked it because he was retrieving us. If I’d drunk the tea too, we all would have been his prisoners,” Kanda claimed.

“The inn was _destroyed_? But… but what about Marlene and Kevin and Angie and everyone? Did they get away?” she asked.

“From the way the building came down, they’re likely all dead. If you want to cry for someone, cry for the rest of them,” Kanda said coldly.

“Bakanda! How could you say that? It’s alright, Lenalee,” Allen comforted awkwardly.

“Old Man, can you find out who the casualties were? And can your Finder call Chief Komui? Lenalee’s been really worried about him,” Lavi urged.

Bookman would have scolded him for his attachment to the girl, if the sound of her crying didn’t make his own heart clench. And Komui definitely needed to see his sister. Worrying over her was distracting him from his duties. “Of course. And we’ll both see you soon,” he promised.

He ended the call and thanked the Captains, and asked that his Finder be released. Then he had Finder William make the calls, first to the battle site, to try to obtain a list of the dead from the Finders there, and then to one of the two Finders with Chief Komui. And then the other.

The man frowned. “Neither Finder Andrew or Nicholas are answering, sir,” he reported.

Komui had promised to call as soon as he recovered Timcanpy, and he had two Finders with him. The chance that simultaneously neither had working communications gear, or that they both had been separated from their equipment, was slim. It was troubling that Chief Komui was unable to be contacted, when he had promised to call him once he retrieved Timcanpy.

“Do you know where they were headed?” Captain Hirato asked, with a frown.

“Just the general direction,” Bookman stated.

“We’ll help you look for them,” Captain Hirato offered unexpectedly. “Although the Earl and his Akuma have been thwarted, at least for the moment, Kafka and the Varuga, the enemies we normally face, have been operating in this city as well. It’s possible they’ve run into them,” he added grimly.

“I appreciate your assistance,” Bookman said sincerely. His grandson would have to wait. Through Finder William, Bookman mobilized every Finder in the city to search for the three missing men, and Circus aided the search.

Less than a half hour later, one of the Finders made a grim discovery: Finders Andrew and Nicholas were dead, brutally murdered, and the boy with them. But there was no sign of Komui, other than his once white beret, which was found drenched in blood, hopefully not his own.

0 0 0

 _What’s keeping the Old Man?_ Lavi frowned. It must have been at least half an hour since his grandfather had called him, and he had yet to make an appearance. _Tch. He’s probably touring the Circus Ship, eager to learn all he can about them._

He was surprised how much the knowledge hurt, after all these years, that as always, Lavi took a back seat to the history unfolding around them. Just once he’d like to come first, in the Old Man’s eyes. _Tch. Idiot. What did you expect? For him to welcome you back like a prodigal child, to hug and cry over you, the way Komui will greet Lenalee? You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t smack you for being careless enoughto get washed overboard, poisoned and wounded, especially once he hears that almost all our injuries were from battling Circus and not Akuma, or even the Varuga._

His frown deepened. _The Old Man’s absence I can understand, but why isn’t Chief Komui here already, sobbing over and clinging to Lenalee?_

“I’m surprised Komui isn’t here yet,” Lenalee echoed his thoughts, her voice sounding both hurt and concerned, as she carefully walked over to the tray beside Allen’s bed on still somewhat unsteady legs, and poured Allen a cup of water. “I would have thought he would have at least called using that communicator by now. You don’t think there’s been another battle, do you?”

“Even if there was one, with Circus and an army of Finders all ready to lay down their lives to protect the Chief, your brother will be fine,” Yu assured her.

Lavi smiled fondly at Yu. Yu had always been like a second brother to Lenalee, just as attentive and protective as Komui, though he pretended not to care. Lavi had seen the bond between the two the first time he’d seen them together.

“What are you grinning at, Idiot Rabbit?” Yu challenged, with his accustomed glare. He was pacing the room like the caged tiger Lavi had seen in India, once, all pent up, frustrated predatory fury at his confinement.

Lavi’s smile widened. It was good to know that just because they were something more than friends now, that even though they’d kissed, Yu wasn’t going to treat him any differently than he always had, on the surface at least. He knew Yu had always cared about him, in spite of his many angry denials to the contrary, every time Lavi teased him about it. Threats and name calling were the way he showed affection. Unfortunately, it had taken poor Allen a much longer time to realize that, because of Cross.

Lavi looked over at his other… boyfriend? _Are we boyfriends now? It’s more than just friends with kissing benefits, isn’t it?_ When Allen’s warm, gray eye met his, the moment of doubt vanished. _You really are an idiot. Of course it is._ “How are you feeling?”

Allen was able to sit up in the bed now, and was drinking the water Lenalee had poured for him, but he still looked pale, and weak, and the left side of his face was swathed in bandages, over his missing eye.  But his face lit with a warm grin, rather than the fake smile he often used, and Lavi’s concern melted. “I’m fine. I feel much better, now that I can move again, even if I can’t stand yet,” Allen assured him.

Lavi reached over and grabbed his free hand, his left one, and squeezed it. It was rough, armored and inhuman feeling, but warm and alive, like elephant hide, those times he’d petted the mounts he’d ridden in India, and part of Allen, so he didn’t care. He was glad that Allen’s parasitic anti-Akuma weapon arm allowed the touch. Allen had used that hand to grab and save them before, so he knew it wouldn’t repel them, at least, not unless he wanted it to, but somehow, it made him feel that much more accepted, that even Allen’s Innocence accepted him, that God didn’t frown upon their new relationship, the way Bookman would.

Lavi fought the immediate, Pavlovian urge to yank his hand away from Allen’s, as the Old Man’s voice began echoing in his head. _Bookmen distance themselves from the world we record. We remain aloof and apart, unaffected by the lives and deaths around us. You are not to feel, or form attachments with anyone. These people are transitory, merely ink upon the pages in the books you will write, as you record their contributions to history. The individuals are unimportant. They exist only for that, for the brief part they play in the history of the world._ How many times had Bookman repeated those words to him, over the years, to every persona he’d adapted, hammering them relentlessly into his head?

“Are you alright? Are your legs hurting you badly? You started squeezing my hand really tightly, all of a sudden,” Allen said, his face and voice warm with concern.

“No. I’m fine. Just an unpleasant memory,” Lavi said truthfully, faking a reassuring smile he didn’t feel. He didn’t want Allen worrying about him, but at the moment, he was drowning in guilt and dread at Bookman’s reaction, when he found out about his new relationship with Yu and Allen. Because he would know. No matter how well he tried to hide it, he’d see it, instantly.

“Don’t do that. I hate when you smile like that. You’re as bad as Allen,” Yu growled.

“What, you’d prefer for us to frown and glare all the time, like you, Yu-chan?” Lavi teased, though his heart wasn’t in it.

“Yes. At least I’m honest. I don’t pretend to like people and be friendly with them. Because of that, when I like someone, they know it. They don’t have to wonder if they’re being tricked or used,” Yu shot back, his hand on Mugen’s hilt, all but vibrating with anger.

His words and the implication stung Allen as much as Lavi, from the way Allen simultaneously squeezed Lavi’s hand harder, in response to his own increasingly forceful grip.

A few of the Sheep in the room stirred nervously, interposing themselves between the two, although one surprisingly went to Yu’s side, brushing against his leg, as if a loyal dog attempting to comfort and support his master, even as Lenalee walked over to Yu, as if oblivious to the implied threat, and bravely laid her hand on his forearm.

“I know you’re upset we were poisoned, that we almost died and you didn’t see the danger coming and couldn’t protect us from it. I know you hate being confined, especially in a place like this, but they’re not a part of those awful memories. They can’t understand, not yet. Don’t say things you’ll regret later. You don’t have to stay with us, to protect us. We’re safe here. You can go back down to the City. We’ll be fine,” Lenalee soothed.

_What is she talking about? What does she know about Yu that we don’t?_

Yu yanked his arm away. “You don’t know that. More Akuma or Varuga, the Earl or Kafka, could attack the Ship any moment. There’s that storm generator too. Lavi already almost downed these Ships with his lightning. They’re obviously as vulnerable to it as a sailing ship or steamship would be,” he argued.

“We’re not, actually,” an unexpected voice said from the doorway. Lavi and the others turned. Captain Hirato was in the doorway, with Bookman.

Lavi immediately, belatedly yanked his hand out of Allen’s, the guilty action drawing Bookman’s eyes to him, like a cobra.

_Damn it._

Hirato continued. “We have protective measures built into the Ship, detectors and dampeners. They were unfortunately offline when you accidentally attacked our Ships, a technological glitch, which has since been rectified. I assure you, you are quite safe here, if you choose to remain.”

“They’re not going anywhere, Hirato, not yet. At least, not three of them,” Dr. Akari interjected from behind the two. He pushed between them, entering the room and stood defensively in front of his patients, his arms crossed and feet braced. “Why are you here, harassing my patients?”

“We need to know which ones are medically fit, doctor,” Hirato said mildly.

“You mean battle ready, don’t you, you ass? None of them, except Kanda,” Akari snapped.

“I knew it. Something’s happened. Has the Earl attacked again, with his Akuma? Or Kafka and their Varuga? Is everyone alright?” Lenalee asked, concerned. 

Bookman strode over to them, ignoring Akari, who eyed him suspiciously, but ignoring Lavi as well. Lavi felt a wave of hurt wash over him when he headed to Lenalee instead of him. Bookman had almost sounded worried about him when he’d called, but it was clear he hadn’t been.

“Yes, there’s been an attack, though it’s not clear whether it was the Earl and Akuma or Kafka and Varuga, though we have reasons to believe it was the latter. Two Finders and a civilian were killed, and Chief Komui was abducted,” Bookman said bluntly, his voice as impassive as if he was speaking about the weather.

Lenalee’s hands went to her mouth in horror. “Brother?” she whispered. Yu caught her as she swayed, glaring at Bookman.

Lavi rose from his chair, outraged at the Old Man on Lenalee’s behalf now, as well as miffed on his own, but still ready to interpose himself between Bookman and Yu, to defend his master, if it became necessary, even as he worried for Komui and Lenalee, extending Hammer to the Ship’s deck and using his weapon’s head like a crutch.

“We have to save him,” Allen said from behind them, sliding out of bed, locking his knees to stand swaying, Akari rushing to his side and catching him just before he lost the battle, and crumpled.

“You’re not going anywhere, except back to bed,” Akari scolded. “Hirato, help me, you ass. This is your fault. Leave it to you to find someone with even less tact than you.” He glared at Bookman.

“Yes, he does make me look rather good by comparison, doesn’t he?” Hirato rebutted. “For the record, I didn’t realize they were all still so impaired, and Chief Komui is the lady’s brother. I knew she’d want to aid us in locating and rescuing him.”

“We need to warn her of the implications, if it’s Kafka that has him,” Akari stated, his voice grim.

“What implications?” Lenalee asked.

Lavi put his arm around her, the contact with Yu, who was still holding her, helping to steady him, both physically and emotionally, grounding him.

Hirato sighed. “Even if we find him, alive, he may no longer be human. Kafka may well have turned him into a Varuga, or something on the verge of becoming one. There is no cure for Cradle cell contamination. It alters the DNA, the building blocks that form human life. We know of only two cases out of many thousands, where the person infected has been able to retain some semblance of normalcy. The others were irreversibly turned into murderous monsters that needed to be destroyed.”

Lenalee was shaking her head in horror.

“One of them is Yogi, isn’t it?” Lavi said quickly, seeing how close she was to breaking.

“Yes. The other is Gareki’s adopted sister,” Hirato stated.

Lavi had not expected to hear that. No wonder Gareki was such an ass. Having something that horrible happen to someone he no doubt loved, the fact that he hadn’t been able to protect her from it, must have gutted the young man. He felt an unexpected wave of sympathy for him.

“Yogi, Lenalee. You’ve met Yogi. You know how sweet he can still be. They can’t cure him, but they control the monster inside him. And just because Circus hasn’t found a cure doesn’t mean our Science Division won’t. None of us will give up on the Chief, even if he’s infected, changed,” Lavi encouraged.

“I can’t lose my brother. I can’t. I don’t care if… if he’s a monster… like Yogi. As long as it’s not… an Akuma, not hopeless. I want him back. Please help me find him and bring him back,” she begged.

“Of course. Kanda and I will go with you, we’ll find him, and we’ll bring him home,” Lavi swore. He turned to the bed. “Allen, you can join us as soon as you’re strong enough to walk out of here.” He didn’t want to leave Allen alone here, he knew how terrible he’d feel, and how afraid for them, but Lenalee was to all intents and purposes his sister and he couldn’t leave her to face this without him. He knew Allen wouldn’t want him to.

“I’d say the two of you were in no condition to fight, but knowing you single-handedly nearly took out both our Ships and defeated Yogi, even after he’d injured you so badly, I know what you’re capable of, Lavi. And Lenalee, you nearly took out both crews, single-handedly. Your feet might be unsteady, but those boots of yours are not. Let’s go find your brother,” Hirato said, holding out his hand.

“We’ll follow you,” Lavi replied, keeping his arm possessively around Lenalee.

“Yes, you’d better. I won’t have you endangering my crew,” Hirato said, riveting him with his eyes, emphasizing the second meaning of the word “follow”.

Lavi nodded in acknowledgement. For now, at least, the Circus Captain would be in charge.


	24. Trojan Horse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:  
> The D. Gray-Man characters are under copyright or license by Katsura Hoshino, Shueisha, Madman Entertainment, Viz Media, Kaya Kizaki, TMS Entertainment, Funimation Entertainment and/or Manga Entertainment.  The Karneval characters are under copyright or license by Tōya Mikanagi, Ichijinsha, Madman Entertainment, Yen Press, Manglobe, Funimation and/or Manga Entertainment. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.  
>    
> A/N:  
> If you like this story and my Attack on Titan stories, you might also like my original published work, the four book high fantasy series featuring a number of gay and bisexual characters, Descent of Kings, by Maria Albert, available on Amazon and through the publisher, Dreamspinner. 

 

_Varuga. Not Akuma, Varuga. They’re Kafka, the enemy Uncle Mana and Uncle Cross used to fight, when they were Captains of Circus, before they joined the Order._ Komui knew they were formidable opponents; the knowledge they had captured him should be no less terrifying, but though their motivations were monstrous, from what little he knew of them, they were at least something he could understand. Kafka was unsatisfied with the human form, and sought to improve upon it. From what they knew of the Earl, he wanted to destroy mankind utterly, to obliterate man from the face of the world. Kafka merely wished to change them into a different form, a forced type of instantaneous evolution Darwin would have thought was impossible, and truly would have been, if not for the miracle of science. It was simultaneously intriguing and horrific, fascinating and appalling. 

Of course, it sounded like Kafka intended to use him as some sort of peace offering to the Millennium Earl. _As if that madman can be reasoned with, or bought._ And as his captors had already noted, he didn’t have Innocence. They’d removed his bloody, once-white coat before they chained him, likely to send to the Earl or the Order, as proof of his imprisonment. If the Earl got his hands on him, it would be a crippling, demoralizing blow to the Order. He’d no doubt record his torture and execution and then ensure it was distributed as widely as possible. Lenalee would see. And there was no telling who the next Chief of the European Branch might be, if he was killed. It could be someone who approved of Leverrier’s methods, someone who would cause Lenalee further torment.

He had to escape somehow, not only for his sake and that of the Order as a whole, but for Lenalee. She was older now, but still needed him. He knew if he was killed, she’d never recover from it. Being separated from him for three years had nearly destroyed her. It had been unbearable for him as well. He’d moved heaven and hell once before to reunite with her. He would do so again.

Komui knew the laboratory he was brought to was likely intended to terrify him, and the manacles about his wrists and fetters about his ankles were hardly reassuring, but he felt so at home in these new yet familiar surroundings that he was honestly more fascinated than intimidated by them. Far more upsetting was the drying blood on his clothes, and the horrific, graphic memory of the two men and the child murdered before his eyes.

He forced the memory down, lest it paralyze him again, isolating and compartmentalizing the memory, and locking it more firmly away, visualizing stuffing it into a reinforced steel chest in his mind and turning the key in the lock so it wouldn’t emerge again. He would deal with the memory later. Now was neither the time nor place. Finder Nicholas had done everything in his power to protect him. There hadn’t been sufficient time or warning to erect a barrier to shield him, and he was certain those creatures would have torn through it effortlessly. In honor of the man, and for Lenalee’s sake, if his own hadn’t been sufficient motivation, he needed to retain his sanity and escape.

Komui was led past different experiments, some biological, which he tried not to look at too closely, and others of a more mechanical nature. Of particular interest at the moment was a small mechanized device that was stumbling across one of the lab benches, trying to thread a precarious path through a sea of coffee mugs. Komui noticed all the mugs were used, with sticky looking residue inside, as the human appearing Varuga leading him stopped and glared. The device was six-legged, insect-like in its appearance, but of a clearly mechanical nature, and the mobility problem it was currently experiencing in its multi-jointed legs was painfully familiar, a design flaw he’d puzzled over for weeks, with the very first Komlin robot he’d created. A human looking technician was glaring at the artificial creature, his hand raised in a fist above it, as if he was about to smash it.

“Haven’t you gotten that stupid, worthless bug to work yet? I’d think after that centipede you made, this would be nothing,” the man leading him scoffed. “That thing has dozens of legs.”

“Not multi-jointed, like this beauty. This is built to climb over obstacles, to go forwards and backwards, and travel great distances at high speeds, not just burrow,” the technician argued indignantly.

“Well while you’re wasting your time finishing his latest pet project, we have more important work we need you to do, like locating and fixing the cause of the power drain and cloaking shield flux whenever we operate that damned storm generator. We won’t be able to keep the field up if the power kicks out again, and now that they’re above us and aware we were in the City, it will be all too easy for those Circus Ships to find us. If they do, you’ll be just as dead as the rest of us,” the man leading them through the lab accused.

_Storm generator? Surely they aren’t the ones responsible for those storms? That’s not possible, is it? Controlling the weather… that’s magic! Or… a miracle. Something only an Exorcist should be able to do. Lavi! Is he their prisoner, working for them? No. that doesn’t make any sense. His ship was nearly lost in one of the storms too. And a cloaking shield? What’s that? It all sounds important. Don’t forget they said any of that,_ Komui ordered himself, as he locked that information away.

The man at the bench cursed, telling Komui’s captor what he could do with his storm generator.

_Ah, the bane of supervisors everywhere: too much work, not enough talented employees to carry it out, and angry, impudent workers as a result. Unpaid overtime, self-serving bosses with unreasonable expectations, and unappreciated underlings. How surprisingly human of them._

“Actually, it’s nearly flawless,” Komui argued, unable to resist commenting, as he turned to the technician, who reminded him poignantly of Reever. “Don’t be so hasty. You don’t want to destroy a perfectly good robot, just because of a single tiny error in the mobility programming, causing the gyros to be out of synchronization. It’s difficult to find, and frustrating, I know, it took me weeks to solve a similar coding problem in Komlin, but once you find it, it will likely work perfectly. Look for a semi-colon in place of a colon. Or something of that nature, at least,” he suggested helpfully.

The man was staring at him wide-eyed. Which of course was understandable, now that he thought about it. Why should a prisoner offer assistance to his captors? There was no telling what nefarious purpose that device had, and he’d just assisted them in making it work. These creatures weren’t human. He needed to remember that. He couldn’t hope to obtain better treatment or compassion or pity by colluding with them. The problem was, they were looking and acting shockingly human, at the moment. _Much like Akuma, before they reveal themselves_ , he scolded himself. _Focus, Komui. I know you’ve been through an ordeal, but it’s not over yet. Keep your perspective._

“Unchain him and give him to me. You can have him back to experiment on once we’re done,” the technician demanded.

Hope flared, bright and brief, in spite of the chilling words about experimenting on him.

“He’s not a specimen. He’s a prisoner,” the Varuga leading him argued.

“We’ve had plenty of those. I need more help,” the man complained.

“Forget it. He told you what to look for, if you choose to believe him. More than likely, he’s trying to make that thing blow up in your face. I would, if I was the one captured,” he stated.

“You would anyway. And something’s going to do just that someday, if you don’t get us more manpower,” the man grumbled, more a gripe than a threat.

“Get back to work,” the other ordered, and then he pushed Komui, as if the worker’s poor attitude was his fault. Komui stumbled, but retained his footing, his guards keeping a wary eye on him, no doubt baffled by his complicity, and the fact that outwardly he didn’t appear to be at all cowed by his position as their prisoner. 

Komui fought panic, however, as he was led into what was unquestioningly a medical facility, beds and operating tables, or perhaps sophisticated torturer’s benches visible, as well as transparent tubes large enough to hold a man. Perhaps they had decided the Earl wouldn’t want him after all. He needed to convince them they were mistaken, to give Bookman and the Finders more time to realize he was missing, to look for him.

An unsettling realization threatened to paralyze him again: Bookman wasn’t going to look for him. He was an Exorcist in name, but he’d only battled alongside them when it had been unavoidable, usually when Lavi was in danger. His focus now would be on retrieving Lavi. Bookman wouldn’t risk himself, or his apprentice, if he found Lavi. The Finders would try to find locate him, but Bookman would not. And there was no way the Finders would survive a battle with these monsters.

“I thought you were going to give me to the Earl. You mentioned appeasing him. He’s not someone you want angered with you. Finder Nicholas spoke the truth. I’m far more valuable to you as a peace offering to the Earl than as a simple experiment,” Komui argued logically, forcing his voice to sound calm.

“Oh, you’re going to the Earl, alright. We’re just going to make a few little modifications first,” the man said, with a chilling grin, as the guards forced him towards the table.

Rationally, Komui knew he couldn’t fight them, that fetters and chains aside, they were Varuga, and if they got their blood on him, he’d become one too. He’d heard his Uncles speaking to his father about their old enemy, when they’d thought him long since asleep. But this time, his rational mind couldn’t overcome the terror.

He struggled, trying to kick and bite, knowing their blood in his mouth would doom him, but he was doomed anyway. The guards, however, were merely entertained and amused by his futile efforts, laughing as he was lifted onto the operating table with contemptuous ease, the fetters and chains removed and replaced by different restraints, metal straps, that immobilized him even more fully, binding him to the operating table.

_No! They can’t! They’re going to turn me into a monster, a Varuga, and send me to the Earl as a Trojan Horse, a monster disguised as a man, an assassin!_ Komui struggled against the straps like a rabid badger, knowing it was futile. “He’ll know! The Earl will l know I’m not human! You won’t trick him that easily! I can be more useful to you here, in your lab. I can help you! You saw! I’ll work on anything you give me! I’m a scientist, damn it! I never wanted to be anything else! I never wanted to be the Chief of the Order! I only did it to save my sister from them, to free her!” he screamed truthfully, a tiny, detached, still rational part of his mind clinically concerned by his words, the hysteria in his voice, the wild thrashing, wondering if he would actually betray the Order, and all the noble, loyal friends he’d made there, whether he’d truly abandon God and work for the Devil, to save himself.

_God betrayed me first! Again!_

The first time God had betrayed him, when his mother was murdered, he nearly lost his faith, but Lenalee had saved him, merely with her presence. And God had rewarded him with Uncle Mana and Uncle Cross. But then… “You killed her! You killed mother and father and Mana and… **_I hate You_**! You took Lenalee from me! Everyone, You took everyone! Go to hell! You belong there more than the Devil you murdering, rotten, soulless bastard!”  

_Laughing, God is laughing. No, not God. Varuga._

Someone else’s words broke through the vindictive stream of curses he was still mindlessly spewing at both God and the Varuga, as he felt a sharp pain in his bicep. His terror increased a thousandfold as he recognized it for the needle it was, as an unknown chemical was injected into him.

**“STOPDON’TPLEASE!”** he screamed, begging as if it were a single word on merciless ears, both theirs and the callous God he’d just endlessly blasphemed.

Remarkably clear, for the blood pounding in his ears, as he lay gasping for air, hyperventilating in his panic, he heard a voice complain, “Why are you using anesthesia? I like hearing him scream.”

“We don’t want him knowing what we’re doing. And he has surprisingly good muscle tone for a scientist, which would make it harder if he struggled. Stupid bastard nearly broke the needle off in his arm. Not that something that inconsequential will matter to him in a little while,” he laughed, the cruelty of it jolting, even as the sound of his voice began to waver in and out of his hearing.

“But…  that rate… heart attack… happened before. … thrashing… strapped… volatile procedure….” The nearly unintelligible words amidst a sea of indecipherable ones were followed by additional coarse laughter. Whatever they’d given him was working with terrifying speed, likely helped along by his elevated blood pressure.

The voices continued, but the words were now meaningless, Komui’s vision a blur of color and shadow, as he struggled to stay conscious, and abruptly lost the battle.


	25. Hostage Exchange

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:   
> The D. Gray-Man characters are under copyright or license by Katsura Hoshino, Shueisha, Madman Entertainment, Viz Media, Kaya Kizaki, TMS Entertainment, Funimation Entertainment and/or Manga Entertainment.  The Karneval characters are under copyright or license by Tōya Mikanagi, Ichijinsha, Madman Entertainment, Yen Press, Manglobe, Funimation and/or Manga Entertainment. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.

 

“I thought you told me you hadn’t detected any power sources? How can there possibly be a facility of that size on the mountainside without you having noticed it before? Did you only scan the City earlier?” Lenalee accused.

Hirato scowled. “We scanned the surrounding terrain, including below the water in the harbor, as well as the mountains. I have the recordings to prove it. But there was nothing there before, and there’s nothing there now. And no, it wasn’t a malfunction of the Ship’s sensors. The facility is apparently cloaked, but there appears to have been a brief flux in the field. Which means, either it was an accident, an intermittent short or something they are either unaware of or failed to diagnose and repair, or it’s intentional, the bait for a trap. Either way, we have no choice. We need to go in, to investigate, if we have any hope of finding and destroying Kafka’s new storm creator. And of finding your brother,” he added, in what frustratingly sounded like an afterthought to Lenalee.

Komui had been missing for hours, and she didn’t know whether he was alive or dead, injured or unharmed, or even whether he was a monster or still human. All she knew was, he was gone, and she wanted him back. She’d never wanted anything more in her life. She’d only wanted her own freedom from the Order, as a child, because they’d been keeping her from the brother she loved. Even in those darkest days, she’d known Komui was safe, that she was the one in danger, even as the angered Order inflicted harsher and harsher punishments and restrictions upon her, until they’d been convinced she’d gone mad and she’d been strapped down to her bed to keep her from attempting to escape again. Once she and Komui were reunited, she was content to stay in the place she had hated, as long as he was with her. It had become her home, because he was there, and home was where he was.

An arm wrapped around her shoulders and she leaned into the familiar embrace, the arms that had gotten her through her wretched childhood after she was taken from Komui. Kanda’s past was as traumatic as hers, his hatred of the Order just as intense, yet he too had overcome it. She leaned away from him, from the comfort she craved, knowing it almost physically pained him to touch anyone, even her. Although it appeared that was changing now, from what she’d seen between Kanda and Lavi and Allen. Kanda would never have been able to restrain himself from killing, or at least injuring one or the other, but together somehow, the three of them reached the balance two never could have. “I’m alright now. Thank you, Kanda-kun.” He was so wonderful. If Komui died…

Her breath stuttered in her chest, and it felt as if her heart was about to stop beating. Komui couldn’t die. He couldn’t be a monster. Not her brother. _Please, God, protect Komui._ It was a foolish, hopeless prayer. If God had any interest in protecting them, He never would have made her an Accommodator and taken her away, forcing Komui to join the Order to reunite with her. God would have never let her brother be kidnapped in the first place. But God didn’t protect His Finders, or even His Exorcists. God didn’t care.

Suddenly her feet felt as if they were encased in lead. Her Dark Boots had always been heavy upon her feet, even once she’d grown, but now, it was as if… as if she was losing her synchronization! The thought was terrifying. She needed her Innocence weapon, to save Komui. Was God angry with her? Was her Innocence? Or had the strain from the poisoning and her aborted recovery period after Komui’s abduction been too great?

A hand cupped her face, and she expected to see Kanda’s dark eyes intently peering into her own, but instead, she saw a single emerald green eye. _Lavi._

“We’ll find him, Lenalee,” he assured her.

She nodded. She truly believed they would. _But will he be alive? Human?_ _Please, God, I’ve been told You help those who help themselves. Please give me the strength of hope and the power of Your Innocence. The rest I can do on my own, with the aid of my friends._ And suddenly, with the silent prayer, her Boots felt normal again, a heavy burden, but not one she was unable to bear. “I know we will,” she said with conviction, giving Lavi a reassuring smile that came not only from her heart, but from her soul as well.

She looked around her at the others, so they wouldn’t doubt her confidence, her resolve, and her eyes fell on Yogi, the fake cursemark gone from his face, but his hair still bleached as white as Allen’s, the way the light was hitting it making it appear almost as if there was a halo about his head and her eyes widened in inspiration. _Thank you, God._ “I know how we can get under their guard.”

0 0 0

“Yogi, you don’t have to do this. It’s not your fault her brother was taken. Let her risk her own friends,” Gareki argued. It was an insane plan, for two of the Exorcists to pretend they had captured Yogi, and use him in a hostage exchange for Lenalee’s brother.

“I know, Gareki-kun. But I attacked and almost killed Lenalee-chan’s friends. I could easily have wounded her badly too, if she hadn’t needed to fly Allen-chan to safety. And Lavi-kun didn’t kill me for it, he forgave me. They all did. If we attack the base outright, their first move will likely be to kill their prisoner. And we’ll need to hold back, we won’t be able to attack at full force, for fear of killing him in the battle. This way, if we lure Chief Komui outside and then attack, we have a much better chance of destroying the base without a lot of our friends getting hurt, or dying, this time,” Yogi reasoned.

“What about you? Kafka could just as easily attack all three of you, the moment they see you approaching their base.What if it backfires, and they capture or kill you?” Gareki argued, just the thought of Yogi in that kind of danger sending his heart racing. Yogi had been captured by Kafka once in this city already.

If only they had realized sooner the warehouse wasn’t their only base, that when Kafka abandoned it, they hadn’t fled the City at all, but just gone to their mountain base. In retrospect, with 20/20 hindsight, they’d realized the storm generator was actually above Ship’s Haven, that it was the perfect site to test it without suspicion, due to the City’s already volatile location for storm fronts, that it would be that much easier to tap into and channel the power from an already active location, like triggering an eruption in an active volcano, instead of a dormant or extinct one, less power needed, more readily available raw materials.

“You’re our backup. You’ll swoop in and save us,” Yogi said with a confidence that almost made Gareki blush, except no matter how he’d made it sound, he’d meant everyone, not just him personally.

“We’ll help too, baa. Sheep fight too, baa. But now with Sheep dung too, baa,” one of the Sheep of the flock trailing Gareki asserted.

“Stupid Muttonhead! You’re not supposed to tell anyone about that. They’re still in the test phase, and not authorized yet, and if Captain Hirato finds out, he’s going to throw me off the Ship,” Gareki scolded.

“How many times have I warned you not to lose sight of your surroundings, just because you think you’re in non-hostile territory?” Hirato chastised from behind them.

Gareki flinched. _So much for my secret project._ It wasn’t something he could complete or field test at school, not the release mechanism at least.

“Please describe the components and function of Sheep dung, Gareki,” Hirato ordered.  

“I’m tempted to take you literally and give you a biology lesson, but I can tell you’re not in the right frame of mind right now. OK, so you know how actual biological sheep dung usually comes out as a compressed mass of little pebble shaped poops, altogether looking to be about the size and shape of a hand grenade? Well, that got me thinking that…”

Hirato visibly blanched. “Please don’t tell me you’ve filled my Ship with exploding Sheep,” Hirato entreated.

“Of _course_ not,” Gareki scoffed. A look of relief flashed across Hirato’s face, and Gareki smirked smugly. “I’ve filled the Sheep with exploding poop.”

At the expression on Hirato’s face, he held up his hands to placate him. “Not armed yet, of course. And only this flock. Right, Muttonhead?” he asked Sheep 36, his first test subject.

“This Sheep is not Muttonhead or 36, baa. This Sheep is now designated Lambchop, by Ewe-chan-Kanda-kun, baa,” the Sheep corrected.

“Wonderful. It appears your own personal flock of exploding Sheep now has at least one malfunctioning member,” Hirato said tartly.

“Now you sound like my teachers. But I’ll remind you that independent thought, self awareness and identity choice are not negative traits,” Gareki argued. At Hirato’s glare, he held up his hand again to fend off the scolding he was about to receive. “I’ve ensured the appropriate safeguards are still fully in place. If anything, these guys pondering their actions every now and then is a good thing. Maybe we can avoid another situation where they turn off vital Ship’s equipment without notifying anyone, because they’re so sure they’re doing the right thing.”

“Well it’s nice to know the Sheep, at least, will be asking permission before engaging in dangerous behavior aboard my Ship,” Hirato said acidly. “So, do I even ask how the Sheep dung works? They just leave little bomb piles lying around? Aren’t those noticeable, especially indoors, where they’d be the most useful?”

“Sure, they would be. That’s why they’re not really dung. They’re actually more like dung beetles. They have legs. The Sheep release the dung, in a compact mass, they disengage from one another and scuttle away, and scurry into any nook or crack they can find, especially into ventilation shafts, wiring, pipes, you name it, and cause hundreds of small explosions.

“Or if you give them a set larger target, something particularly juicy you want them to go after, they can call to one another and regroup, not just with the components of their original dropping, but with all the droppings. They make one massive bomb, and then they blow. If there was any way that we could identify the storm generator, we could blow it up, and if not, we could just try to bring the entire base down on them, if we tell them to head for their power generator. The dung beetles can detect both radiation and electrical fields. But on other missions they could be used to funnel or herd the enemy one way or the other by collapsing specific corridors, or cause the maximum amount of chaos over an entire base, if we load them with flash bombs or knockout gas, or something. The applications are endless,” Gareki reported with pride.

Hirato sighed. “I hate to say this, but I think you’re right, including your proposed idea about using them on this mission. We need to make sure we destroy deeply enough within the mountain, so they won’t be able to recover their equipment. So you can implement that attack, _if_ they’re up to the challenge. But not if they’re not ready for a field test. Are they ready?”

Gareki met Hirato’s challenging stare head on. “They are. I just need to encode the target. Their power generators? That way, at least we can take out their shielding and power source, even if it’s not the actual storm generator itself. And they may get lucky, if the two are near one another. Depending upon the power source they’re using, the explosive potential and destructive capability could be multiplied.”

“Tell the Sheep to get in as close as they can, without being detected, and code the dung beetles to target their generator,” Hirato confirmed.

“You’ll protect Yogi, right?” Gareki wished he could take back the foolish question the moment he uttered it. Of course Hirato would protect him.

“We’ll do our best, Gareki,” Hirato confirmed.

“Come on Muttonheads. You too, Lambchop. We have work to do,” Gareki ordered, forcing himself not to look at Yogi again. He needed to focus. Yogi’s life could depend upon it.

0 0 0

Komui awoke to angry, muffled familiar voices, amidst clouded thoughts and a sense of dread, the knowledge that something was horribly wrong. Why couldn’t he open his eyes? It was as if they’d been taped shut. He tried to sit up and found he couldn’t move, as if he was bound to his bed. But worse, his body felt strangely numb, as if… he was paralyzed?

The thought set his heart racing, and he fought to call out, to open his eyes, to speak, to _move_. He listened for the Matron’s voice, or the voices of anyone else familiar from the Infirmary. For Reever. Lenalee… Lenalee! Missing, she was missing!

“Careful what you say. He’s coming out of the anesthesia,” a voice said clearly, and he fliched at the sound of it. Familiar, but not in a good way.

_My captor! Captured, I was captured. Dead, that boy Mark, and Finders Andrew and Nicholas. The lab. The medical facility. The needle._ Panic swamped him and he began struggling more wildly. Had they truly paralyzed him? Blinded him too? Severed his tonsils or cut out his tongue? Was that why he couldn’t move or see or speak?

“What does it matter? The Earl is gone! Now what good is he to us? The Exorcists are going to be looking for him, and without the Earl, there’s nothing to divert their attention from us. We should just kill him, before he causes us further trouble,” the other voice asserted.

The one he’d heard before the… surgery. Just the thought made him nauseous. _What did they do to me?_

There was the sound of running footsteps. “Commander! An Exorcist is outside the concealed entrance to the base, a girl, under a flag of truce,” a man’s voice reported breathlessly. “She says she’s Lenalee Lee, the sister of our prisoner, and that she and her brother Kanda Lee want to exchange a prisoner for their older brother, Komui Lee. She showed us a picture of him, and it’s definitely our prisoner, sir.

“She said she and her brother captured that Circus member who escaped us, Yogi! She’s also broadcasting a recording, both audio and visual, of the Millenium Earl and Captain Hirato of Circus arranging a hostage exchange to return two Circus personnel, in exchange for three Exorcists, including that girl, Lenalee, and that lightning wielder we had caught, Lavi.

“The girl claims Circus and the Earl fought one another during the exchange, that she escaped but the other two, Allen Walker and Lavi, were killed. She claims the Earl’s dimensional portal was destroyed by Circus. The recording of the hostage exchange arrangements looks legitimate, but she’s offered us a copy to analyze.”

Komui’s head was reeling. _Lenalee is alive! Why did she come here? They’ll kill her! Did Circus really capture the three of them and try to use them in a hostage exchange? Allen and Lavi can’t really be dead, can they?_

“How did she find our base?” the commander demanded.

“We don’t know, sir. But she could have concealed herself and attacked us instead of communicating with us, and we’ve scanned the surroundings and found only two others in range, on horseback, one slung over the saddle, and the other riding, and from the visual, it looks like Yogi and her brother. They appear to truly be alone. It sounds as if Circus is their enemy as much as we are, sir. She says her brother is monitoring her, that if anything happens to her, her brother will immediately kill the prisoner and then take as many of us down with him as he can.”

“How theatrical of the young lady. First we’ll analyze that recording. If it still appears genuine, then by all means, let us make this exchange, as it sounds like the Earl is no longer our concern,” the commander stated. “In fact, it sounds like that fat buffoon blatantly violated the terms of our Treaty, by capturing two Circus members and failing to hand them over to us, as stipulated by our agreement. We’ll have the recording as proof to verify our claim with our superiors.”

The grinning commander walked over to Komui. “It looks like we’re going to have to sedate you again, something to make you incapable of thought and speech, but to keep you conscious. It wouldn’t do to have you warn them we’ve turned you into a weapon, would it? There, that’s better now, isn’t it? Don’t worry. It will all be over soon,” the falsely cheerful voice soothed.

He hadn’t even felt the needle.

_God, I’m sorry! Please forgive me for losing faith. Remember, even Your own Son lost faith and forsook You, when You tested Him. Please, do whatever You want to me, but protect Lenalee! I don’t care if I die, if I’m a monster now. Just please, protect Lenalee. Don’t let me be the one to kill her! Please, God! You chose her to serve You. Protect her! Pro…_


	26. Sneak Atttack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:   
> The D. Gray-Man characters are under copyright or license by Katsura Hoshino, Shueisha, Madman Entertainment, Viz Media, Kaya Kizaki, TMS Entertainment, Funimation Entertainment and/or Manga Entertainment.  The Karneval characters are under copyright or license by Tōya Mikanagi, Ichijinsha, Madman Entertainment, Yen Press, Manglobe, Funimation and/or Manga Entertainment. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.

“Come on Muttonheads, Lambchop, hoof it!” Gareki urged. He’d broken into hundreds of buildings, set countless explosions, but never with a flock of Sheep at his heels, and never with other people’s lives on the line, only his own, even the few times he’d worked with partners. He’d always made certain they’d be safe, even if he was caught or killed, until they were inside. After that, if they messed up and got themselves killed, it wasn’t his problem. But this time, with these people, was different. He couldn’t screw this up.

He’d disabled the sensor on the concealed air vent access hatch on the mountainside they’d targeted, and opened their ticket into the interior of the base. According to Hirato’s plan, he was supposed to let the Sheep take it from there. Hirato should have known better. There was no way he was sitting this out.

Gareki let Sheep 12 go first, to scan for additional security measures within the vent, and to laser them a clear path, if there were any obstructions, but only on his orders. He wouldn’t risk Lambchop for that mission. All the Sheep were theoretically the same, but in reality of course, because of their AIs, each Sheep learned different things from their experiences, grew and evolved in different ways. They were as individualistic as the humans they protected, and Lambchop was the first one to exhibit true signs of self awareness and rebellion. That he was apparently more loyal to that jerk Kanda than to him actually made him like the bastard more: both the Sheep and the man.

Sheep 12 gave the all clear, and Gareki followed it in, with Lambchop at his back, and the rest of the Sheep trailing behind, save for the four who would guard their exit, their retreat. They all needed to get out before it blew, and this would at least give him a known, clear path.  
  


0 0 0

  
Kanda hated this. He hated that Lenalee was in greater danger than he was, even though he knew the plan was structured this way because she would be more likely to escape harm if they attacked, that her Dark Boots could bring her to safety. Lavi was waiting out of range of their sensors, ready to ride in on Hammer if things went wrong, which they likely would, and Circus was ready to strike, already on the ground, their nearly empty Ships still hovering over the City. It was Kanda’s job to bring Yogi to Lenalee, if Kafka agreed to the exchange. They knew those monsters likely wouldn’t allow them to leave, that it would be a trap, but it didn’t matter, as long as they really brought out Komui, and not some mimic or fake.

He glanced over at Yogi. He was lying remarkably still, draped over the saddle on his stomach. Kanda knew it could be far from comfortable, that the blood would be rushing to Yogi’s head and all his weight was on his abdomen. That Yogi was willing to risk his life to help them like this made up for his attack upon him, for trying to kill him. But not for hurting Lavi. Although, Kanda grudgingly admitted, Yogi wasn’t exactly sane at the time.

Kanda sighed heavily. He’d done something quite similar, after he’d awoken in that chamber with Alma. People had died because of him and Alma. Of course, Marie was saved because of him, too.

He forced his thoughts back to the present, to his surroundings. He needed to stay focused. They could be attacked at any time.

“Kanda, bring the prisoner. They took the recording, authenticated it and have agreed to the exchange.” Kanda almost jumped at Lenalee’s voice emerging from the golem perched on his horse’s head.

Komui was that much closer to being rescued and all of them in that much greater danger of dying. He urged his horse and Yogi’s forward, toward what was most likely a trap.  
 

0 0 0

  
Lenalee was thankful for Kanda’s sturdy presence beside her as she watched the concealed building entrance anxiously. She knew it was there, although she couldn’t see it. It appeared to be just another piece of the mountainside. She wasn’t sure how she would have been able to do this without Kanda’s unwavering support.

She gasped as the slab of rock she’d been staring at suddenly moved, a section of it sliding away, and men emerged from the concealed facility, and she recognized her brother among them. He was alive! And walking, but something was wrong. He was stumbling forward in an apparent daze.

“Komui!” she cried, unable to restrain herself.

Her heart nearly stopped when he didn’t react at all to her cry. He didn’t yell at her for endangering herself to save him, or even call her name or turn to face her; he just continued shambling forward, like a mindless zombie.

_He doesn’t recognize me! Is he drugged? Or have they done something worse to him? Oh God! What if they’ve lobotomized him?_ The thought had her gripping her stomach and fighting to keep from vomiting.

“What did you do to him?” she demanded, forgetting she wasn’t supposed to antagonize them, or do anything to delay and prolong the exchange.

“Relax, girlie. We just wanted to make sure he didn’t cause any trouble.” The enemy holding him pointed arrogantly to Yogi. “It’s not like you didn’t damage your half of the bargain, right? So we’re even. You should be glad we’re honoring the exchange, and not just killing you and keeping both prisoners,” the man said with a threatening grin. “We do outnumber you, after all.”

“Ambush!” a voice warned through the device clipped to her ear.

“No. actually, you don’t,” Lenalee replied coldly as she attacked. Hirato had assured her everyone on the base would be a Varuga, a monster. She didn’t have to hold back.

Her goal wasn’t the spokesperson, but the man holding her brother, even as chaos erupted around her, as the hidden Circus combatants closed in on their position in a flash and rained from the sky, raging down onto the Varuga that were erupting from beneath the ground all around her in a foiled attempt at an ambush.

She was used to opponents that ran and flew, not ones that burrowed like moles beneath her feet. If Circus hadn’t already warned her of the likelihood of that type of attack, she’d already be dead.

Lenalee yanked Komui from the creature holding him and blasted it to nothing with her Dark Boots, then rocketed away. Her job was to get Komui safely to the Ship, to Dr. Akari. But as soon as Komui was safe, she’d head back down and join the fray.

“God, this is Lenalee. You know I hate You, for destroying my life by giving me this power, for taking me away from my brother. But I’m not praying for me, I’m praying for him. He always loved you, before you took our mother away. Please, let whatever they did be temporary, or something Dr. Akari can fix. Please spare Komui. If You want to kill or destroy someone, take me instead, when I go back down to fight.” She half expected her Boots to stop working, to plunge down to her death. From everything she’d ever heard and experienced firsthand, God was a vindictive monster, as cruel as the Millennium Earl. But to her relief, she reached Ship Two safely.

Dr. Akari was waiting on the entry platform, with a team of assistants. Lenalee laid her brother on the gurney and then kissed him on the forehead, a pair of tears streaking salty trails down her lips. “I love you, Komui.” Then she turned and ran, and dove out the portal, heading back towards the raging battle.

  
0 0 0

  
Bruised, cursing and coughing, but still alive, Gareki staggered up from the wall he’d been thrown against, the acrid scent of burnt wool filling his lungs. “Lambchop!” Gareki quickly assessed the downed Sheep. It had completely seized, it couldn’t move and hadn’t spoken, but Gareki was certain the processor was still functioning. There was no way he could retrieve the memory chip from the damaged carriage housing it, though, as he had with the other Sheep they’d lost.

This wasn’t the first Varuga they’d come across down here, while infiltrating the base and setting the charges. At least the special gun and ammunition he’d designed and built for himself at the school worked effectively against lower level Varuga like the ones they’d faced, so he wasn’t relying solely on the Sheep for survival. All the dung charges had been dropped, but they’d had a nightmare of a time returning back to the vent they’d entered through, and they were still far from its relative safety.

“Idiot Lambchop! I saw it coming, I would have ducked, if you hadn’t slammed into me like that,” Gareki scolded, fighting the bizarre urge to cry. He’d saved the other Sheep that had been disabled in the previous attacks; he couldn’t lose Lambchop.

“Protect Gareki-sensei,” the six remaining Sheep in his depleted flock intoned as one.

“Damn it! Hirato reprogrammed you to protect me, didn’t he?” he demanded, and then he frowned. “No. You wouldn’t have let me in here if he did that.” _And since when did I become their sensei? I didn’t program them to call me that._

Knowing it was stupid, and would likely get him killed, he hefted the smoking electronic carcass of Lambchop into his arms. “Time to complete our bug out. We need to get out before this place blows,” Gareki ordered.

There was no way in hell they could make it back to the vent they’d come through now, the exit they’d been heading for. He needed to improvise, to think on the fly of another way out. Fortunately, escapes from impossible situations were his specialty.  
 

0 0 0

  
Hirato tackled Tsukitachi midair. “It’s nearly time! Don’t pursue them into the mountain, idiot!”

Tsukitachi’s indignant glare changed to a sheepish nod as he aborted the chase. “Thanks. I got caught up in the heat of the moment.”

Half a dozen Varuga took advantage of their brief distraction and simultaneously attacked. Turning back to back, the two Ship Captains faced off against the horde’s onslaught, even as the rest of their forces pulled up and back, as per the plan. The powerplant on the base could detonate at any moment, and they needed to be a safe distance from the blast.

Hirato cursed. They were effectively hemmed in, unable to retreat with the others, in spite of their Banshees.

In the next instant Eva was in front of him, taking out one of his three opponents, and then Lenalee rocketed up, taking out the remaining two Varuga above him instantly, with the force of her attack.

“Will you two idiots stop playing and pull back already!” Eva scolded.

“We were trying to,” Hirato replied coolly as he darted up into the air, as soon as he saw Tsukitachi’s opponents were down as well and he was free to follow, thanks to the unexpected but welcome aid.

“Although it’s not like we needed to hurry. What the hell’s taking those damned Sheep of yours so long? Why hasn’t…” Tsukitachi’s complaint was abruptly interrupted by a massive explosion beneath them.

Hirato had expected the entire mountain might shake with the blast, but no one had expected it might instead blow apart, as if a plugged volcano undergoing an explosive eruption. Pyroclastic debris blasted into the sky all around them, jagged blocks of stone as large as houses, as small as peas, and every size in between flying in every direction.

He stared down in stunned disbelief. The entire north face of the mountain was gone, sheared away as if… “Gareki!” Heart hammering, Hirato dove downwards. _The vent, the damned Sheep, outside, where it’s safe, I thought he’d be safe, I…_ **“GAREKI!”**

Hirato cursed as Lenalee grabbed him around the waist and rocketed upwards with him, away from the deadly shrapnel the mountain had become, away from Gareki, from… from the rubble that had become his baby brother’s tomb.  


0 0 0

  
“Gareki-kun! Are you alright?” Yogi begged, over the pounding of his heart at the still thundering sound of multiple landslides following the explosion. They were floating mid-air, a protective bubble of thorns around him, Gareki, and seven shattered, smoking Sheep, one of which was locked tightly in Gareki’s arms. The other six had been wrapped protectively around Gareki and that lone Sheep, taking the brunt of the debris impacts, before Yogi reached them.

Gareki slowly uncurled himself from around the Sheep he was carrying. “Yogi?” he asked, sounding dazed.

“Thank goodness!” Yogi cried out in relief, embracing him, tears running down his face. He had no idea why Gareki was on the south side of the mountain, he was only thankful he’d been there, that he’d seen him, that the Sheep had protected him from the deadly debris until he reached him.

He expected Gareki to squirm and struggle in his arms and was conversely worried when he didn’t. He pulled back, panicked. “Where are you hurt?”

“I’m not,” Gareki claimed. But he was shaking, crushing the disabled Sheep in his arms tightly against his chest, like a terrified child clinging to a stuffed animal. “When it blew like that I… I thought I was dead.”

Yogi embraced him again. “You’re safe,” he assured him, stroking his back, his hair, with the Sheep sandwiched between them. Gareki smelled all wrong, like smoke and burnt wool, but Yogi didn’t care. _Thank goodness he’s alive!_

This time, Gareki hugged him back. Then he pulled away. “I need to get Lambchop and the Muttonheads to the Ship.”

Yogi peered between his vines. “It looks safe enough now,” he agreed, dropping their thorny cocoon into the form of a boat holding the two of them and the seven Sheep, and plotting a trajectory to Ship Two.

“Holy hell,” Gareki whispered, his eyes wide with shock.

Yogi’s gaze followed his and his own eyes widened. Half the mountain was gone. The entire north face had vanished. He fumbled for his communicator, even as he concentrated to keep them flying towards the Ship. _Are the others alright?_

His heart started to thunder when Captain Hirato didn’t answer his communicator. He called Eva, heart in his throat.

“Yogi! Thanks goodness _you’re_ alive, at least. Maybe you can – Lenalee, catch him!” she yelled, sounding totally frazzled and overwhelmed, completely unlike the calm and confident big sister he knew. “Damn it, Captain, we’ll search for him as soon as it’s safe, but the rock’s still actively avalanching in half a dozen places!”

“What’s wrong with Captain Hirato? Who’s missing? Oh no. Is it Captain Tsukitachi?” Yogi asked in dread. Hirato and Tsukitachi constantly bickered and tried to outdo one another in public, but he knew that privately, the two men loved one another like brothers.

“No. Captain Tsukitachi is here with us, thankfully. We wouldn’t have a hope of restraining Hirato without him. It’s… um… never mind. Yogi, why don’t you go up to the Ship?” Eva suggested evasively.

Yogi frowned. _What’s she trying to hide? Nai is safely on the Ship, and Gareki is with me and…._ Yogi’s eyes widened in understanding. _Gareki is supposed to be on the other side of the mountain, the destroyed side!_ “If it’s Gareki you’re worried about and looking for, he’s fine, he’s safe, with me. That’s why I was trying to call Captain…”

“Captain, stop! Gareki’s safe, he’s with Yogi. Yogi, put Gareki on, now!” Eva commanded.

Eyes wide with surprise, Gareki took the communicator from Yogi. “Hirato, I’m fine. Not a scratch, thanks to the Sheep and Yogi,” he assured the Captain. “They must have either had a major ammo dump or that storm generator or powerplant of theirs must have been powered by something pretty intense for the blast to have taken out the mountain like that. Was everyone safely out of the blast radius before it blew?”

There was a brief hesitation. “You weren’t where you were supposed to be,” the Captain said, his tone odd. “Of course you weren’t. I should have known you… Everyone else made it relatively safely away. There were injuries, but no fatalities, except for… but you’re not, so… everyone is safe,” Hirato repeated, sounding dazed and shaky.

Yogi realized he must be in shock. He knew Hirato liked Gareki, but he’d had no idea he liked him so much that he’d be that upset.

“I want you and Yogi back on the Ship. No arguments. We’re going to make certain none of the Varuga escaped,” Hirato ordered, sounding more like the man Yogi knew and respected so much.

“I’m not about to argue, this time. I’m sorry I worried you. I worried myself, too. I lost my entire flock, but I salvaged their processors and memory chips, so I have plenty to do to keep me out of trouble and safely aboard Ship,” Gareki assured Hirato, surprisingly complacent.

“I’ll make sure he stays safe, Captain,” Yogi assured him.

“Good,” Hirato said, and then the communication ended.


	27. Gone Asunder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer:   
> The D. Gray-Man characters are under copyright or license by Katsura Hoshino, Shueisha, Madman Entertainment, Viz Media, Kaya Kizaki, TMS Entertainment, Funimation Entertainment and/or Manga Entertainment. The Karneval characters are under copyright or license by Tōya Mikanagi, Ichijinsha, Madman Entertainment, Yen Press, Manglobe, Funimation and/or Manga Entertainment. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.

 

It wasn’t until they’d landed in the entry bay for the Ship, declared they were home, and Yogi dissipated his vines that Gareki realized Yogi was wounded, when he started to crumple to the deck. Gareki cursed, dropping Lambchop to catch him. Fortunately some of the other Sheep caught Lambchop and steadied Yogi. “Why didn’t you tell me you were wounded?” Gareki demanded. 

Yogi looked sheepish. “I hadn’t realized. I didn’t feel it, until I tried to stand.”

“Shepherd command override. I want fourteen of you Sheep to take the damaged Sheep to the Maintenance Bay. Don’t discard anyone. I’m going to fix everyone, even Lambchop, after I bring Yogi to Sickbay. I have the processors and memory chips of the others we lost, too,” he assured the Sheep surrounding them as he ordered them. Then he froze. _Except for the four who were waiting for us at the vent, guarding our escape route. Shit._ He felt his eyes begin to burn with unaccustomed tears and angrily wiped them away.

“Understood, Gareki-sensei, baa,” they intoned in unison.

“Can you walk, if I help you?” Gareki asked Yogi. The four Sheep were gone. Yogi was the one who needed him now.

“If I can lean on you, and you go slowly enough,” Yogi agreed. “I’m not sure I could fly anymore right now,” he added, slumping against him.

“You really drained yourself, protecting us like that, didn’t you?” Gareki accused.

Yogi nodded, looking embarrassed.

“Thanks for saving me,” Gareki said, feeling his face flush. He hated being rescued, but he knew he would have died if it hadn’t been for Yogi protecting him. He hated that he was still the weakest person on the Ship, except for Nai.

“If it wasn’t for the Sheep dung, who knows how many of us would have died fighting those Varuga? I may have saved you, but you saved us first,” Yogi said, surprising him with his unexpected insight and support.

“Tch. Tell that to Hirato. Once he gets over thinking I died, he’s going to rake me over the coals for the size of that explosion.”

“That’s not your fault. I’m just glad no one died. No one human. None of our people,” Yogi clarified fervently.

“We lost four Sheep. They were waiting for us, at the vent,” Gareki admitted quietly, even as he worried whether he’d be able to salvage Lambchop or not. He started planning out everything he’d need to do to repair the damaged Sheep and was relieved when they finally reached Sickbay.

He was greeted by a fuming doctor. “Damn it, Gareki! I told you to never bring explosives into my Sickbay!”

“I didn’t,” Gareki denied, surprised and confused by the unexpected accusation, even as he heard the computer state a warning overhead.

“Explosives detected. Initiate safety measures,” the mechanized voice intoned.

Akari glared at the Sheep beside him, which had been inside before Gareki entered. “Just because you’re not the one carrying it doesn’t excuse what you’ve done. It’s these Sheep and those damned dung beetles, though they keep denying that… what happened, Yogi? Where are you injured?” Akari abruptly asked mid-complaint, over the warning announcement continuing to chime in the background.

“Explosives detected. Initiate safety measures,” the computer repeated insistently.

Gareki frowned, studying the three Sheep in the room, just to be certain, but none of them were modified to carry Sheep dung, and he’d used up every robot, every gram of explosive he’d had. Realization hit like a punch to the stomach. _Shit._ “It’s not the Sheep. It’s something else. Did you bring any packages in here, anything from the surface?”

“No, of course not. I haven’t left the Ship. The only thing we transported was… _Holy hell_ ,” Akari said, paling, his gaze snapping to the stasis tube containing their rescued prisoner, Chief Komui, at the same time Gareki’s did.

Gareki’s stomach clenched. Apparently, Kafka had somehow turned the man into a bomb. He turned to two of the three Sheep in the room. “Sheep 62 and 79, Shepherd override. Disregard the order I’m about to transmit to the rest of the Sheep. Instead, your mission is to bring my dung tools from the Maintenance Bay to Sickbay. Disregard an order from anyone but me, unless a life is directly in danger. Understood?”

“Understood, baa,” they intoned in unison and then left.

Then Gareki headed for the intercom, certain it wouldn’t set off the explosives, as it used the same speakers and frequency as the computer warning.

“Attention all personnel. Captain’s authority: Armageddon. Code E. This is not a drill. Evacuate the Ship immediately. Repeat, Code E. This is not a drill. Evacuate the Ship immediately. Attention all Sheep, Shepherd override. Locate Nai and remove him and all other personnel who don’t evacuate voluntarily from the Ship, except for me, Dr. Akari and Yogi. Bring everyone else to Captain Hirato. Then you are to encircle the Ship and prevent _all_ personnel from both Ships, regardless of rank, from entering for eight hours or until I countermand that order, whichever comes first.” Even Hirato wouldn’t be able to enter, now that he’d evoked the special override program he’d created, at least, not without destroying every single Sheep, and doing so would be nearly impossible to explain to the Council.

Once he was finished Gareki ran back to the stasis tube containing the Chief of the Black Order. He looked… so damned young. And innocent, like Yogi when he was unconscious. More beautiful than his sister, Lenalee. The man she and the other Exorcists had all been willing to die to protect, the way the crew would protect one of their own, or especially Hirato. _Damn it!_

Akari ordered his staff to evacuate his three remaining incapacitated patients, Kiichi, Tsukumo, and Allen Walker, using one of the shuttles, and to participate in the evacuation themselves. They reluctantly agreed, though Anna would have refused, had Akari not threatened to have the Sheep carry her.

“Yogi, your injury, whatever it may be, obviously isn’t life threatening. You need to evacuate with the others. Go to Ship One and they’ll take care of you. Gareki, tell me what to look for, and any hints or tricks regarding disarming explosive devices,” Akari said coolly, as he calmly readied a surgical tray.

“Are you insane? There’s no way you can do this without me,” Gareki argued.

“I’m not leaving,” Yogi said firmly. 

“But Yogi, there’s no reason for _you_ to stay. There’s nothing you can do. You need to get out of here. Help the Sheep make sure Nai gets away safely,” Gareki insisted.

“No. I’m not leaving you both here. I might be able to protect you from the blast,” Yogi claimed.

“There won’t be time, if he blows. He can’t while he’s in stasis, but the bomb could be set on a timer, or there could be a remote detonator function that could be rigged to be set off by Ship’s equipment now, since I doubt there are any functioning transmitters left on the surface. Once we locate the bomb, we’re going to have to turn the stasis field off to remove and disarm the device, and it might detonate immediately,” Gareki argued.

“Then let the Sheep disarm it,” Yogi urged.

“They’re good, but they’re methodical, and wouldn’t be fast enough to react, and they’re not explosive experts. It has to be me,” Gareki insisted. “Dr. Akari, can you X-ray him while in stasis? So we can see where the explosives are, and get a look at them? X-raying it can’t trigger the explosion, while the stasis field is in place, right?”

“Right. The stasis tube is specifically designed to allow X-rays, so treatment can be initiated immediately once the field is shut down. I expect the explosives to be in his stomach, that there’s a sutured surgical incision beneath his clothes that would indicate that, unless they had him swallow them somehow. Is that possible?” Akari asked as he began coding the stasis tube for X-rays.

“Either is possible and effective, depending upon the type of explosive used. Surgery would allow them to implant a larger mass all at once, but leaves more evidence. Swallowing it is more discreet, more subtle, but would take longer for him to ingest the same amount of explosive.”

A short while after Sheep 62 and 79 arrived with Gareki’s tools, Gareki, Yogi and Akari stared at the X-rays.

“It’s not in his stomach,” Yogi commented, stunned and horrified.

“No. It’s in his colon. The entire length, from the anus to the cecum, a full 1.5 meters. But no signs of surgery,” Akari said, sounding both fascinated and intrigued.

Gareki cursed. “They didn’t need surgery. See those? Those are legs. There are dozens of them. The whole damned thing is an explosives carrying robot, like my dung beetles, but on a far more massive scale, like a single giant centipede. It just entered through his ass and burrowed its way up into his body.” He shuddered. “Could he have been conscious and aware?”

Akari shook his head. “They likely sedated him, gave him an enema and then had it implant itself while he was unconscious. It’s secured to the colloidal wall by all those spiky protrusions, the legs, apparently. He’s fortunate they didn’t imbed deeper and perforate the wall. The likelihood of infection would be appalling, and worse, it could well have damaged the arteries in that region. Trying to pull it out would be catastrophic. Removing it surgically will be difficult, dangerous and damaging, with a high risk of infection. Would you be able to signal to it, get it to reverse its path and leave his body the same way it entered, backing out?” Akari asked hopefully.

“I need to study the X-rays and see how much I can figure out that way,” Gareki stated honestly. He could just as easily accidentally trigger the device, and there might be safeguards that prevented the explosive centipede from leaving a target once in place. Or it might just be mechanically limited to moving in a single direction, forward, especially since it was so finely segmented that it would be easy for it to turn around simply by bending over upon itself and moving in a U-turn, if it were walking on a floor, at least, and not inside a human body.

“X-ray here, and here. I need a close-up view of those joints at the highest magnification you can manage,” Gareki instructed.

Akari complied.

A short while later, Gareki studied the joints on the X-rays and cursed. “Damn it! That’s what I was afraid of. They took the easy way out and only gave it mobility in a single direction.”

“I could make my incision at the cecum and have it crawl out that opening, unless there’s some sort of locking mechanism on the legs that prevent them from becoming mobile again, now that it’s anchored,” Akari suggested.

Gareki frowned. “That could work. The legs are engineered to both extend and… retract! If I find the right trigger, I can get the legs to retract into their housings. Then nothing will be securing it to his insides, and you would be able to slide it out, right? You’d even have his muscles working with you!” Gareki recommended eagerly.

“If you can do that, yes, exactly. But isn’t that dangerous? Don’t you need to send a signal to it for that? And you can’t do that within the field. It could trigger the detonator, couldn’t it?” Akari challenged.

“Yeah. That’s why it’s time for you and Yogi to leave. I’ve got this from here,” Gareki insisted. “Once I trigger the legs to retract, I can stick my fingers up this guy’s ass and get that damned thing out, and then disarm it.” Because there was a strong chance he was going to detonate the overgrown bug, and he didn’t want Yogi or even Akari anywhere near, in case that happened. Theatrics from before aside, Gareki knew Hirato would get over him blowing himself up, especially if he didn’t take Yogi and Akari out with him.

“Excellent. He’s my patient. Tell me the most likely frequencies, and I’ll take it from here. You and Yogi need to evacuate with the others,” Akari said calmly.

“No way in hell! You’d still need to disarm the device, and you wouldn’t have a clue if it was about to blow immediately, or if there was a delay or… no,” Gareki refused.

“Akari-sensei? You need Gareki-kun. And I’m not going to let the two of you do this alone,” Yogi said, his voice gentle and serene, in stark contrast to his disturbingly white hair. If they lived through this, Gareki was going to make Yogi dye it blond again, because it was wrong, seeing his hair white, when he wasn’t Silver Yogi.

Akari sighed and nodded. “Thank you, Yogi. I guess there’s nothing I can do, short of injecting you, but thanks to Gareki, there aren’t enough Sheep on board now to bring you to safety.” He turned to Gareki, “Before you try, we need to do what we can to protect Hirato’s precious Ship, in case this doesn’t go as well as we hope. This is your last chance, Yogi, Gareki. Once I initiate quarantine, we’re going to be trapped in here, until someone frees us. The system won’t open from the inside,” Akari said grimly.

“I’m staying,” Gareki and Yogi said stubbornly, in near perfect unison.

Akari nodded and slapped the Emergency Containment button on the side of the stasis tube. There was an ominous, mechanical sound from outside the door to Sickbay and the air vent. “Quarantine doors have now dropped, sealing the corridor and vents leading to Sickbay. They’re blast shielded, to prevent frantic contaminated personnel from attempting to blow their way out of quarantine. Our atmosphere is now self-contained and recirculated, isolated from the rest of the Ship. We still have communications, but that is now our only form of external contact, until the doors are released from the outside.”

Gareki fought the feeling of being caught, trapped, the need to escape at Akari’s pronouncement almost overwhelming. Even just the need to prove he could bypass the system and get out. But he had a bigger challenge in front of him.

“Alright. Now comes the tricky part,” Gareki said eagerly, excitement at the challenge momentarily overriding his concern.


	28. Mutiny and Melodrama

“What the hell is going on?” Hirato demanded in consternation, seeing the sphere of strategically positioned Sheep encircling his Ship. “What do you mean you won’t allow us onboard? This is Captain Hirato, Emergency Override: Rebellion. I order you to stand down and let us board.”

“We cannot comply, baa. Gareki-sensai has ordered us to prevent all Ships’ personnel from entry, regardless of rank, until sufficient time has elapsed or he countermands his previous order, baa. You are Ship’s personnel, Captain, baa,” the stubborn Sheep claimed.

Hirato stared at the Sheep in disbelief. Using the Rebellion command should have instantly put the Sheep firmly back in his control, overriding all previous orders. He squeezed the bridge of his nose in frustration. Forget hugging the kid. Now he wanted to strangle his little brother.

“Under what parameters did Gareki implement this… security measure?” Hirato asked, trying to keep his voice level. He was a hair’s breadth from unleashing his Banshees on the damned Sheep and blasting them from the sky, but shuddered to think what the Council would say, when he gave his next report, if he had to resort to such draconian measures. There were a dismayingly large number of Sheep, and the cost of replacing them would be astronomical.

“Captain? Gareki issued the order over the intercom using your Armageddon code for authorization, and then issued a Code E evacuation order, explosives on board. We thought the order came directly from you, sir,” Thompson, one of their communications officers apologized. He was being kept aloft by two Sheep, as were the rest of the non-combat, support personnel.

“Where are the explosives located?” Hirato demanded. Without knowing that, he could accidentally trigger them when entering the Ship, especially if he didn’t use the hatch and blasted through the hull. Not that doing so would be an easy task, of course.

“I don’t know, sir. Although the command was issued from Sickbay,” the man added.

“Sickbay? Where’s Akari?” Hirato demanded in sudden sick dread, looking about for the man. _Please don’t tell me he’s still aboard._

“I haven’t seen him, sir,” Thompson admitted reluctantly.

“Damn it! What about Yogi?” Hirato demanded, looking around for the distinctive bleached hair.

“Sir, I believe Yogi and Gareki are with Dr. Akari in Sickbay, with one other as yet unidentified person, who isn’t registered by voiceprint in the computer. According to the Ship’s computer, an Emergency Quarantine has been initiated inside Sickbay. Apparently they are inside with an unknown contagious patient,” Darrell reported.

“Captain, it’s the prisoner we rescued. I don’t know if he’s contagious as well, but from what I overheard, Kafka turned him into a living bomb. Dr. Akari forced me to evacuate,” Anna, who had just been flown over by two of the Sheep, reported breathlessly. “From what I understand, he’s planning to operate to remove the device, Gareki is going to diffuse it, and Yogi is staying to try to protect them both.”

_A bomb inside of Chief Komui? Holy hell._ And of course, Akari would refuse to leave his patient, Gareki would try to disarm it, and Yogi would refuse to leave Gareki. Hirato’s heart started hammering wildly in fear for his younger brother again, as well as for Akari and Yogi, his anger forgotten.

“No. This isn’t happening,” Lenalee whispered in shock, shaking her head in denial.

_Damn it._ He had forgotten she was listening. “Ms. Lee, my crew is the best there is. If anyone can save your brother, they can. But if surgery is required, it could take hours before…” Hirato began.

He was cut off by Tsukitachi. “Hirato, my Communications Officer just received a message from Ship Two, the Sickbay, from Gareki. He says that the bomb has been successfully removed and disarmed. He says you need to override his final order to the Sheep, using the code phrase, “Command Override: Let the wolf in sheep’s clothing and the rest of the pack in,” and they’ll allow you and your crew back on board. The four of them are currently confined by the Ship’s quarantine program, which they activated to minimize the blast damage to the rest of the Ship, if they were unsuccessful.”

Hirato paled, just thinking about it, and nodded to his fellow Captain in thanks.  “Command Override: Let the wolf in sheep’s clothing and the rest of the pack in,” Hirato announced loudly to the Sheep.

“Command Override acknowledged, baa. Entry permitted, baa,” the Sheep graciously acquiesced, and then they began heading for the Ship’s entryway, to welcome the crew home.

Hirato was the first to board, immediately followed by Kanda, Lavi and Lenalee. Hirato overrode security to allow them entrance, because he didn’t want them to have voice access to his Ship, even for a limited time. He strode purposefully down the corridor to Sickbay, the Exorcists at his heels. He was tempted to leave the three rebels and their prisoner confined, but the need to see them safe and whole was too great, and the Exorcists wouldn’t have allowed it, in any case. When he reached the sealed corridor, he spoke the override code to end the quarantine: “An apple a day, so Akari can play.”

As soon as the door to Sickbay was opened, Lenalee rushed past him and demanded, “How’s my brother?” while heading for the man’s bedside.

Chief Komui was lying motionless, but wasn’t hooked up to any equipment, not even an IV, and his coloration appeared remarkably healthy. He merely appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

“He’s fine. No injuries, and still human. They drugged him, to keep him from fighting, but not with anything damaging. I had to mildly sedate him further for the procedure to remove the device, but surgery wasn’t required. He should be conscious in less than an hour, though it will take another six to eight hours to ensure the other drug is completely cleared from his system,” Akari assured her.

She bit her lip. “He didn’t recognize me. He… that was the sedative? You’re sure they didn’t… damage his mind?” she asked anxiously.

“There is no sign of any brain damage, or of surgical tampering of any kind, anywhere on his body, not even when the device was implanted. Physically, he is completely unharmed. There may be psychological issues he will need to face and overcome, as a result of his capture, but hopefully, as he was held for such a short length of time, they should not prove too severe,” Akari assured her.

“Thank you. I… he’s the only family I have and… Is… can I touch him? Hold his hand?” Lenalee asked.

“Of course. You can sit with him, if you like, until he wakes. I have other patients I need to attend to, once they are returned to the Ship,” Akari stated.

“Allen isn’t here. Is he on the other Ship?” Lavi asked.

Akari nodded. “He, Jiki and Tsukumo are in Ship One. They’ll be returned here shortly.”

“Thank you,” Lavi said, with obvious relief.

“Dr. Akari, Gareki, Yogi, I want to hear the details. Everything,” Hirato said coolly.

“Of course,” Akari said, looking at him, surprisingly not in annoyance, but in sympathy and compassion. Akari at least apparently realized how terrified he’d been for all of them. Not that he’d ever admit so aloud, of course, especially not to Gareki or Yogi.

“After I report to you, Captain, I’d like to be allowed to repair my flock. If you’re going to confine me to the brig, or my room, I’d still like to be allowed my tools and the Sheep,” Gareki risked requesting.

“You’ll give your report, and then I’ll see,” Hirato replied, his voice clipped. He wasn’t in a very magnanimous mood, after Gareki’s mutiny.

“I couldn’t just let him blow up. And I tried to get Dr. Akari and Yogi to leave,” Gareki defended.

As if Gareki being the only one in danger was acceptable. “I want the three of you in my office,” was Hirato’s carefully measured reply, as Anna entered the room.

“Why don’t we make it my office? It’s closer,” Akari unexpectedly offered.

“No. Mine,” Hirato argued. He needed to be in his own, so the dominant atmosphere of control as their superior would be…

“I’ll make tea,” Akari unexpectedly offered.

_Is Akari actually offering to brew tea, or offering me a drink?_ _And why should that even matter? It’s surely just a blatant attempt to lessen the severity of…_ Expectant pink eyes bored into his own, and suddenly Hirato didn’t give a tinker’s damn about the bloody bomb.

“On second thought, I should interview the three of you individually, to ensure your testimony doesn’t cloud or influence one another’s. You first, Akari. My office,” Hirato insisted. Because unlike Akari’s, his office was connected to his bedroom, and he needed to get the good doctor to bed.

The frown creasing Akari’s brow straightened as his eyes widened fractionally.

_Damn._ Apparently he’d somehow allowed his intentions to show on his face. So much for enticing the good doctor to his…

Akari turned and headed for the door.

_Wonderful. And now he’s storming from the room and…_

Akari looked over his shoulder, a familiar look of annoyance creasing his perfect features. “Well, Hirato, are you coming? I don’t have all day,” he snapped. And then he was gone.

Hirato bolted after him, feeling like a dog being brought to heel by his master. He jerked to a stop only a few steps down the corridor. Since when was Akari his master?

Akari looked over his shoulder, impatience and what could only be lust burning in his eyes, and Hirato ran forward, ceasing to care, pride and position be damned. He’d almost lost this, lost him, and instead, Akari was inviting him into his bed. He’d already been brought to his knees. He only hoped Akari was at least somewhat as afflicted.

Hirato graciously opened his door for the good doctor and allowed him to precede him inside. He’d only barely closed and locked the door when Akari grabbed him by his collar and tie and slammed him back into the door with a surprising amount of strength and aggression. Hirato opened his mouth to protest, only to have Akari’s mouth close upon his own in a completely wanton, wild, hungry claiming kiss, and his argument was forgotten. The challenge now would be to remain somewhat coherent and in control, it seemed, as… And then Akari’s tongue was in his mouth, and all thoughts of control vanished.

0 0 0

Gareki watched the two men disappear down the corridor and then headed for his workshop and the disabled Sheep. He seriously doubted Hirato would surface again for hours, unless he was totally misreading the body language of the two men, and he doubted it.

He spun when he sensed he was being followed, hand instinctively going to his shirt, where his concealed gun should be, frowning when he felt only fabric. He couldn’t believe he’d actually forgotten he disarmed for the delicate procedure of disarming the bomb and somehow left the gun in Sickbay. Thankfully, it was only Yogi.

“Shouldn’t you be hovering over your injured boyfriend or something?” Gareki snapped, regretting it immediately. Betraying your pain to others only enabled them to exploit you more easily, it only led to more pain. He’d learned that lesson early, at his foster parents’ hands, long before they’d sold him.

Yogi’s eyes lit with alarm. “Injured? Where? You told me you weren’t hurt!” Yogi exclaimed, his hands and eyes suddenly roaming frantically over him.

_What the hell?_ “Why are you pawing me?” Gareki demanded, bewildered by Yogi’s strange behavior. _Is Silver Yogi exerting himself again?_ “Don’t you want to chase after Lavi?” Gareki all but spat the Exorcist’s name. “Now that he’s reunited with his friends, he’ll be leaving soon.” _Not soon enough._

Yogi’s eyes widened in confusion and surprise, but then brightened with understanding, and a look of soft warmth and affection which made Gareki want to blow something up. He began stalking down the corridor, desperate for the distraction the Sheep would provide.

“Lavi-kun is sweet, and kind, and wonderful,” Yogi said from directly behind him, making Gareki’s teeth grind and his hands clench into fists at his sides. It was a good thing he didn’t have his gun. He really didn’t want to hear how perfect that smug bastard was. Not that he’d ever be able to shoot Yogi.

“But he’s not my boyfriend. He’s only a precious new friend,” Yogi was quick to assure him. “I’ve never had a boyfriend. Not for lack of wanting one. But the young man I’m interested in, while very mature for his age, in many ways, more mature than I am, is still too young. So I’ve been waiting to say anything, or do anything, other than hug him whenever I can,” Yogi murmured gently in his ear, as he wrapped his arms around Gareki’s waist from behind, embracing him. “Because it wouldn’t be right to do more than that, except, perhaps, for kissing him, no matter how much I might want to.” And then gentle lips nuzzled the back of his neck.

A delightful shiver ran along Gareki’s neck, down his back, while conversely, warmth pooled in his chest. All the anger and tension drained out of him, as he leaned back into Yogi, even as he marveled that he trusted him enough to do so.

“Gareki-kun!” Nai called eagerly, causing Gareki and Yogi both to start guiltily and pull away from one another.

“You’re safe! You didn’t get blown up!” Nai cried, running and diving into Gareki, wrapping his strong little arms around him.

“Of course not, idiot,” Gareki scolded, even as he petted the little Niji’s hair, to sooth and reassure him. “The bomb hasn’t been made that I can’t defuse,” he boasted confidently, enjoying the silky feeling of Nai’s hair as it slid beneath his fingers.

“I… um… should go, I guess,” Yogi said reluctantly, his voice painfully wistful.

“But I haven’t hugged you yet!” Nai complained, and then he wrapped himself around Yogi just as fiercely. “Thank you for protecting Gareki-kun!”

Gareki frowned, the warmth he’d felt a moment before for Nai vanishing, as his face flushed. “You stinking little animal! How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t need protecting.”

“Gareki-kun is right, Nai-chan. He’s very strong, you know. Not just now. He always has been, though we were reluctant to acknowledge it. Almost as strong as a Combat Specialist. Strong enough to protect his friends, as well as to allow them to protect him,” Yogi unexpectedly said.

“I know! Thank you for protecting Yogi-kun, Gareki-kun! Someday, I’m going to be as strong as the two of you, so I can protect you back too!” Nai swore, as he pulled Gareki into the hug.

For a moment, Gareki imagined what that would be like, six or seven years from now. Gareki would be as old as Yogi was right now, and Nai would be 16 or 17. Nai would be taller, and more muscular, but still slender, with big red eyes and silver hair, his beautiful face full of that same sweetness and innocence and fierce protectiveness about him that reminded him so much of Yogi. Would Nai still hug them like this then? Gareki blushed fiercely, picturing it, because suddenly, he wasn’t thinking of Nai like a little kid or an animal, but as the young man he’d soon become.

He patted Nai awkwardly on the head as he broke the hug. “I have to fix Lambchop and the other Sheep,” he muttered in apology as he pulled away.

“Why don’t you and I see if big sister Eva-san needs any help?” Yogi suggested to Nai, to Gareki’s relief. His eyes met Yogi’s with a look of gratitude, and then he headed down the corridor. Sheep aside, he suddenly had a lot to think about.


	29. Sleeping Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos are really appreciated, and it's also been a while since anyone has commented. I'd really love to hear what you think. Even just a few words would make my day. Thanks!

Tsukumo feigned still being asleep, completely mortified, though she kept her eyes open to slits. The last thing she’d expected to see upon waking was Dr. Akari and Hirato kissing. Each other. No wonder all her hopeful advances over the years she’d known Hirato had been gently but firmly rebuffed! She’d thought it was because of Eva, that she could never measure up to someone so tall and voluptuous and dazzling, or because Hirato still thought of her as a child.

She’d heard rumors about Hirato and Tsukitachi being together, but hadn’t seen any evidence they were more than friends. But Hirato and _Akari_? She had thought Akari despised Hirato. She felt like a voyeur, although she was doing her best not to hear, and had her eyes tightly shut.

_Why am I here, in Sickbay? Was I injured? How?_

“You’re supposed to be debriefing Yogi or Gareki now, not molesting me further, you ass,” Akari complained, but breathlessly, instead of with his usual venom.

“But I enjoy molesting you,” Hirato complained, and proceeded to prove it, his right hand groping Akari’s butt.

Tsukumo’s face flushed, but she was afraid she’d draw attention to the fact she was awake and inadvertently watching if she looked away, so instead, she closed her eyes.

Akari yelped, and Hirato gently laughed. “Softly, my dear Doctor. You don’t want to waken your patient. The poor boy needs his rest, after what he’s been through,” Hirato scolded.

“You’re lucky Jiki’s not awake, to hear you call him that, you ass. Especially not after what he did. He deserves a medal, not your condescension,” Akari chastised, and it sounded like he might have successfully pulled away from Hirato.

_What happened to Jiki? How was he injured? Was it serious? It must be, or he’d be in Ship One’s Sickbay, not here, under Akari’s care._

There was a heavy sigh. “He deserves a lot more than that. Instead, he’ll likely lose his position on Ship Two, once the Council views that recording. He’ll be accused of cowardice and complicity with the enemy instead of valor. He’ll make a perfect scapegoat for them,” Hirato stated grimly.

“So erase the damned recording. Blame the Sheep, or a power surge. Hell, blame me. I’m the one person they can’t afford to get rid of,” Akari argued.

There was a melodramatic sigh. “You were right. I am a bad influence on you. You were always so by the book, before you met me. I’ve ruined you, haven’t I?”

“Utterly,” Akari replied contentedly, a suspicious quiet following.

“Let’s take this back to your bedroom, you lech, before someone walks in on us,” Akari said somewhat breathlessly, a while later. Tsukumo could actually hear his blush in his voice.

“What about Tsukumo and Jiki?” Hirato asked dutifully.

“Neither is in any danger. I’d be concerned if Tsukumo was still unconscious, but she’s just in a healing sleep now. Remember, she woke up briefly before, though I’m not sure she’ll remember it, thanks to her concussion. I’m more worried about Jiki. There’s no telling what his mental state will be. I’ll have Anna keep an eye on them both, so they’re not alone when they wake,” Akari assured him. “You’re the one who scolded me for not going to bed for days.” Akari coaxed.

“Yes, but I meant to _sleep_. You won’t be sleeping, my dear Doctor, now that I’ve finally gotten you into my bed,” Hirato said smugly. “Yogi and Gareki will have to wait for their debriefings. I’ve just thought of a host of new questions I should have asked you before,” Hirato said suggestively. A moment later the door softly opened and shut.

_Well, that was embarrassing. I could hardly have said anything, considering, but I do have a number of questions of my own, real ones, first and foremost, what concussion? What am I doing here?_

Tsukumo opened her eyes again and this time examined herself, now that she didn’t need to hide she was awake, her eyes widening as she saw both her arms were encased in casts, going from wrist to elbow. She hadn’t even felt them. Belatedly, she realized she didn’t feel the sheet over her, either. She looked suspiciously at the IV connected to her bicep. Apparently it contained a heavy duty painkiller. It didn’t look like she’d be fighting again anytime soon. _Am I allowed out of bed?_ Likely not. She’d just have to wait for Anna to come and tell her what had happened.

The door opened, and Tsukumo guiltily closed her eyes, realizing a moment later how foolish that was. It must be Anna. She opened them again, and was surprised to see it was Kiichi. She’d made a beeline for the second bed and Tsukumo belatedly realized Jiki was in it. Tsukumo’s eyes widened at how pale Jiki looked, and at the cast on his left arm, which went from his fingertips to his shoulder. Apparently his arm was broken worse than hers. And his right arm was covered nearly wrist to shoulder in bandages.

“You’re such an idiot. You should have let him torture me, like he planned, instead of tricking him like that. I’m just as tough as you, you know,” Kiichi accused, but her voice sounded more sorrowful, or perhaps guilt-ridden, than annoyed. 

_They were both captured by Kafka? Jiki was **tortured**? They’re lucky they’re both still alive, still human._

“He wouldn’t have hurt me as badly. He’d expect me to be weak.” She sighed. “That was the problem, wasn’t it? You knew I wouldn’t scream, no matter what he did. You overprotective idiot. Now look at you. You’re lucky that Exorcist was there to carry you. I would have left you behind,” Kiichi accused, but when she turned abruptly away from the bed, Tsukumo was shocked to see tears in her eyes, which she quickly brushed away. Kiichi _never_ cried. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to realize Tsukumo was awake to see them, as she turned back to the bed without a scathing comment. “Come back soon, OK? The Ship’s not the same without you.”

Kiichi headed out without so much as looking in Tsukumo’s direction, to her relief.

A few minutes later, Tsukumo started to hear sounds coming from the other side of the room, the second bed, mumbling.

“Jiki? Are you awake?” Tsukumo asked, sitting up and looking over at him. But his eyes were still closed, though he was moving slightly, in his sleep. _Is he dreaming?_

The volume and intensity of his voice increased, the incoherent mumbles becoming words. “No! Don’t, please! Stop!”

_Not a dream. A nightmare. Or memory. Reliving the torture._ Tsukumo pulled aside the sheet, and swung her legs over the side of the bed, relieved to see they both seemed to be uninjured and functional. She lowered herself to the floor carefully, to be certain, and then grabbed hold of the IV stand, as the cries became louder and more frantic. “No! Don’t!”

She hurried over to Jiki’s bed, relieved she was able to walk, as he began to thrash, and gently shook his shoulder. “Jiki!”

He gasped awake, sitting up, his eyes terror filled and unfocused.

“Jiki, it’s alright, you’re safe. You’re in Sickbay, on Ship Two,” Tsukumo soothed.

He looked even worse up close, and now that the sheet had fallen away from his torso, bandages crisscrossing his lean chest, and bruises on almost every patch of exposed skin.

“You’re not real,” he whispered, pulling away from her hand, closing his eyes but then snapping them open again.

“You’re not dreaming me. If you were dreaming, would you have dreamt me in casts?” she reasoned.

He frowned. “I might. Because my arm’s broken,” he theorized, but he sounded unsure. “And you’re talking to me. You never talk to me. You never even notice me, because of Captain Hirato. I was right. You’re not real.”

A wave of guilt washed over Tsukumo. “I’m sorry I haven’t been nicer to you. It’s not your fault. I don’t… I’m not good at speaking with people. I’m not like Yogi. And sometimes people see what they expect to see. And I’m talking to you now. If you want to talk. If you don’t, that’s fine, but I’m still going to sit over here with you, because I feel silly lying in bed when I should be working.”

His brow creased. “You sound a lot like Tsukumo. But I can’t trust you, because you could be a trick. He could be making me hallucinate so I betray Circus and… I shouldn’t be talking to you.” Jiki sounded suspicious and paranoid and wistful.

“You should kiss him, baa,” one of the Sheep bleated.

They both jumped, neither having noticed it had silently enter the room and apparently been listening.

“Kiss Jiki? Why?” Tsukumo asked, more intrigued than reluctant.

“To break the spell, baa. So he wakes, baa. A magic kiss, baa,” the Sheep said wisely.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe we’re asleep and dreaming,” she said, but then she smiled. “Still, this is a much better dream than the one you were having before, and I wasn’t dreaming at all.” And before she could think twice about it, and talk herself out of it, she leaned over and kissed him.

She meant to kiss him on the cheek, but he jerked his head around at the last second, and instead, their lips touched. He jerked back as if she’d tased him, and she bit her lip at the wild look in his eyes.

Fortunately, just then the door opened. “What are you doing out of bed! You shouldn’t... He’s awake! What’s wrong?” Anna fluttered, rushing up to them, frowning in concern at the heart monitor, which Tsukumo belatedly noticed was pinging rapidly. “You need to calm down, Jiki. It’s alright. You’re safe now. You’re on Ship Two. Kiichi brought you here. And she’s fine, she wasn’t injured while you were escaping,” she added.

Jiki touched his lips, his hand trembling. “It’s not real. None of this is real.”

“He keeps saying that. I’m afraid that’s partly my fault. I haven’t been acting the way I usually do. But also, he was having a nightmare, which I woke him from. I think that’s part of why he’s so disoriented,” Tsukumo explained.

“I’m going to call Dr. Akari and…” Anna began.

“No! I mean, I don’t think that’s necessary. He’s… um… in an important meeting with Captain Hirato, and I’m sure they wouldn’t want to be disturbed right now,” Tsukumo volunteered, able to imagine all too clearly what the two men were doing. “You should call Captain Tsukitachi instead. And Kiichi,” she suggested, in a flash of inspiration. “If anyone can convince him he’s awake, they can.”

“That’s a good idea. Dr. Akari _had_ asked me to only disturb him in case of emergency, he said he was going to try to get some sleep after Hirato finished debriefing him, and he really needs it. Watch Jiki for a moment,” Anna urged, as she stepped to the communications pad on the wall.

“I didn’t mean to confuse you more by kissing you. I only meant to kiss you on the cheek. I’m sorry I upset you. But I’m not sorry I kissed you. Or that you turned your head. I’ve never kissed anyone before. I’m glad it was you,” Tsukumo admitted honestly to Jiki. Although Kiichi likely would be furious. Kiichi hated her, for some reason, and she belatedly realized that it was likely because she had a crush on Jiki, and maybe it was because Jiki apparently had one on her, instead.

“Where’s my bracelet? If this is real, I want my bracelet,” Jiki insisted.

“It’s on Ship One. And I don’t think that’s a good idea, anyway. You have a number of injuries you’re recovering from. We don’t want to aggravate any of them,” Anna explained.

They remained at a stalemate until Tsukitachi and Kiichi arrived. Tsukitachi was far more reserved than he would normally have been, apparently in an attempt not to agitate Jiki further. Unfortunately, that just seemed to convince Jiki all the more strongly that he wasn’t real.

“Honestly. This is your own fault,” Kiichi accused. “If you’d just let him torture me instead, you’d be fine. You knew what would happen when you faked looking relieved, when you didn’t react to him hitting me the way he expected you to, when you weren’t at all protective of me. He thought you were a coward, a wimp, and that hurting me wouldn’t make you talk, the arrogant idiot. Bullies are always the same, stupid and overconfident, so smug when they have you pinned and outnumbered. Just like those boys at school I told you about, on that survival hike, remember? I told you about how I got my revenge, and made it look like an accident. All three of them flunked out, because they couldn’t complete the hike.”

Jiki’s eyes widened, suddenly bright and alert, the way they normally were. “You never told anyone else about those boys at the school. What they tried to do and what you did to them.”

“No, I didn’t. Because I would have been expelled, no matter how justified it was. Now do you believe I’m real, that we’re all real, that this is real? That you’re awake, and this isn’t a trick?” Kiichi challenged intently.

“But if this is real…” his eyes widened, as he looked at Tsukumo, and she felt her face flush.

“Yes. That was real too,” she admitted. “And I meant what I said about it.”

Kiichi was scowling at her suspiciously, but Tsukitachi’s eyes widened, and then he grinned.

“What happened to the Exorcist, Kanda? Did you free him, like I told you to? Did he escape with us?” Jiki asked Kiichi.

“I freed him. He’s actually the one who carried you out, while I fought, at least part of the way. But then he tried to run off, saying something ridiculous, about hearing his sword calling to him. Only apparently, it was, because we found his sword with our bracelets.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out his bracelet, and handed it to him. “We already checked it for tampering. Mine too. It’s safe,” she assured him. “And Kanda and his friends are back down in Ship’s Haven. A lot’s happened. We vanquished the Millennium Earl and destroyed his forces, though he escaped, and we destroyed Kafka’s base and blew up a new weapon they were developing, a storm generator, which they’d been using to attack shipping. Our mission here is done. All that’s left is the final mop up and the performance for the City. But you’ll be sitting this one out.”

A look of humiliation and loss flooded Jiki’s face. “I was completely useless,” he said guiltily.

Kiichi glared at him. “You’re actually going to make me say it, aren’t you? In front of Tsukumo and Tsukitachi? Damn it. You saved my life, Jiki. Unlike you, I wouldn’t have faked screaming and begging. I would have been stoic and silent, and they would have gotten more and more frustrated and creative and enraged, and they would have done far more horrible things to me than they did to you, they would likely have chopped me up piece by piece, they would have killed me. And you knew that. You saved my life, risking your own, knowing they’d torture you and… You’re much stronger and braver than I am. So don’t you dare think poorly of yourself, or say self-disparaging things. Because you’re my best friend, and I refuse to let anyone but me be mean to my friends.” 

She turned and glared at Tsukumo, stepping protectively between her and Jiki, and Tsukumo belatedly realized why Kiichi had seemed to hate her.

“She’s right, you know. You’re a hero, Jiki. I’ve put in a request for a commendation for you for extreme bravery, above and beyond the call of duty, and Captain Hirato has put one in as well, for aid to his Ship and crew,” Tsukitachi said. “And I shouldn’t be telling you this, but since I doubt our Council will allow you to know, that Exorcist, Kanda, will be making a similar request for a special commendation from the Black Order for you both, Jiki and Kiichi, for your aid to him, while he was a prisoner. And the other Exorcists intend to formally thank both our Ships in their reports to their superior, once Chief Komui is conscious. So your actions have also helped strengthen our rather precarious treaty with the Black Order. And I want to personally thank you, for a job well done, for helping insure our latest victory. Good job, Jiki.”

To Tsukumo’s relief, the bleak, lost look had vanished from Jiki’s face with Kiichi’s words and Captain Tsukitachi’s assurances and praise. Instead he was looking at everyone with wide-eyed surprise and renewed pride and confidence.

“Now, you need to get your rest, and we have a performance to prepare for. You’ll be staying on Ship Two until we’re finished here, to give you a chance to recover a little more before returning to our Ship. So rest up and relax. You’ve more than earned it,” Tsukitachi ordered.

“Yes sir. Thank you, Captain,” Jiki said, lying back onto the bed, his former tension gone.

“Take good care of him, Tsukumo-kun,” Tsukitachi said with a wink and a devilish grin.

“I will,” Tsukumo promised.

Kiichi glared at her challengingly and Tsukumo met her gaze bravely.

Kiichi nodded, a brief look of relief flashing in her eyes, before it was gone, apparently satisfied. And then they left Sickbay.

“Would you mind if I sat here with you, quietly? Or talked, if you’re up to it and wanted to?” Tsukumo asked.

“I’d like that,” Jiki said.

Tsukumo felt her own tension ease, as she pulled up a chair and sat beside his bed.

“And I promise I’d react far better, this time, if you wanted to kiss me again,” Jiki added, his eyes meeting hers, with only a hint of mischief in them, and a sweet, hesitant, hopeful look, instead of his usual cocky grin.

Her heart melted, and she stood and brushed an errant lock of hair from his forehead, and then she bent down and touched her lips to his again.

**  
**


	30. Exposed Secrets and Extortion

Allen fought the urge to lean on Lavi and Kanda, though they were walking close enough to him on either side that it would have been easy to do. But he was finally recovered from the poison, and he didn’t want to worry them, for them to think he was still feeling the effects. And Lavi wasn’t fully steady on his feet, without aid of the crutches, after the battle he’d fought. Allen was so incredibly relieved that they were both safe, that neither had even suffered any new injuries.

And they’d told him that they’d rescued Lenalee’s brother, Chief Komui, too, although they still weren’t sure he would fully recover from the effects of his captivity. He hadn’t regained consciousness yet, so it was too soon to tell, but at least Circus had removed the bomb Kafka had implanted in him. They were on their way to support Lenalee, who was at her brother’s bedside.

They entered the room and Allen’s heart lit with relief when he heard Lenalee speaking.

“… sure Reever is very worried about you. But at least Finder Morris called and reported we’d recovered you, that you were safe, even though you’re not conscious yet. Please, Komui, you need to wake up,” Lenalee urged, in a choked, falsely cheerful voice that turned to pleading with her final words.

Belatedly Allen realized that she wasn’t speaking with her brother, she was talking to him, that he had yet to waken, to respond. She was sitting at his bedside, holding his left hand with her right, and wiping away tears with her other hand.

“Lenalee,” Allen said, all the compassion he was feeling, the support he desperately wanted to provide in her name.

“Allen! You’re out of bed, you’re alright!” she cried happily, leaping to her feet, and pulling away from Komui, running the short distance to them, her eyes welling with tears of joy and grief.

“Lenalee,” Kanda and Lavi echoed tenderly, and then all three of them were hugging her and she began sobbing in their arms.

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault! He came here looking for me, and God’s angry with me and now He’s punishing Komui because of me,” she sobbed.

Allen was shocked. “Komui’s the head of the European Branch, he protects God’s Exorcists and Finders, and you’re one of His strongest Exorcists. God wouldn’t turn against you.”

She shook her head, clinging to him. “He would. He knows I hate Him, I’ve always hated Him, for taking me from Komui. I told Him to take my life instead of Komui’s, but I’m still alive, still here, and that’s why Komui won’t wake up,” she cried.

Allen’s eyes widened in alarm. “Lenalee, you can’t think that!” he denied. He was relieved she hadn’t acted on her mistaken belief, and done something terrible, sacrificed herself in a misguided effort to save her brother.

“God’s got nothing to do with what happened to Komui,” Kanda claimed, shocking Allen. He’d never once heard Kanda speak God’s name. “That was Kafka’s fault, and they’re as far from God as you can get, without actually becoming an Akuma. Allen’s right. The only reason Komui’s still alive, that he wasn’t turned into a monster by them, is because God needs you and Komui. He can’t afford to waste two of his strongest allies.”

“If God wanted vengeance against anyone, it would be against me and Bookman, not you and Komui,” Lavi agreed.

_What? Why would Lavi think that?_

“At least God chose you as his warrior. Bookman and I chose ourselves, we bonded to the Innocence we recovered using a secret ritual and then pretended we were chosen by God as the Accommodator’s for Hammer and the Needles, so we could see a different side of your war against the Earl,” Lavi stated bitterly, shocking not only Allen, but Kanda and Lenalee, from their expressions.

“What? But… but that’s not possible. Every time we’ve tried to force someone to become an Accommodator they… they’ve died,” Lenalee whispered, her eyes haunted, as if she was seeing visions of something horrible.

“What? But that’s not… You mean the Order did that?” Allen asked Lenalee shocked.

“You’re not a real Exorcist?” Kanda demanded.

Lavi grimaced ruefully. “That depends upon your definition, doesn’t it? I fight and destroy Akuma using a piece of Innocence, Hammer. But God never chose me. Or Bookman. We wanted to study the Order from the inside, not at the level of a Finder, someone who wasn’t privy to all the secrets, but as Exorcists. So we deceived the Order and tricked God’s Innocence. If anyone should be punished, it’s us.

“I’m so damned tired of all the lies. I wanted to be a Bookman more than anything. I thought it was the most important job in the world. I felt so superior to all of you. I knew so much, and you knew so little. You were just pawns on the board, and I was one of the players who manipulated you for my own gain. But then I joined the Order, and for a little while, I became a pawn too.

“I didn’t take it seriously at first: to me, it didn’t matter who lived or who died. But then I watched all of you fight to save everyone. You didn’t just stand to the side and record all the evil in the world, you tried to stop it, to save people, instead of just noting their names as they died. You risked your lives day after day for strangers. I thought you were so foolish. I didn’t understand. And then Yu saved my life.

“I was so damned cocky, so sure of myself, that I was overconfident. I took on too many Akuma at once, when I should have drawn back. I was so angry with Yu, when he rescued me, because I was angry with myself, for needing to be saved. I hated feeling in debt like that. I kept waiting for my chance to repay him.

“I thought it came, but it was a trap, and I would have had to die to protect you, Yu. I thought it would be pointless to die to save you, so I backed away, to let you die, to record it, like a good little Bookman. But then Lenalee came. And she swooped in and saved you, knowing she would be the one hit instead. And I watched it, all of it.

“I saw you fall out of the sky, Lenalee, with Yu in your arms, and crash down onto the cobblestone street, even as Yu twisted you both around at the last moment, so it was his back that took the full impact of the fall, instead of yours. I thought he was an idiot sacrificing himself for you like that, that you were bleeding too badly to live. I could see that without a tourniquet, you would die, but the Akuma were still attacking. You both landed right in front of where I was hiding, recording the fight. I thought I’d be recording both your deaths.

“But then I saw the look on Yu’s face. I’d seen him enraged countless times. I knew it gave him the strength to fight, to defeat opponents far stronger than he was, ones that should have been able to defeat him. I thought it was the only emotion he needed, the only one he knew how to feel. But that time was different. In that moment, all I saw was bottomless grief.

“He screamed as he fought to stand, as he attacked them, not at them, but at you, begging you not to die before he finished saving you. And… he cried, because he knew he wouldn’t be fast enough, that even if he lived, you’d bleed to death, before he could save you. I looked back at you, and that’s when your eyes met mine, Lenalee. They were clouded with pain, wide with fear, and you spoke, and I poised my pen over my book to record your last words. And you whispered, ‘Help him.’

“And I just… froze. Because there you were, dying, but instead of begging me to save you, to treat you or take you to a doctor, you wanted me to save him instead. And then I had to help, but you, not him. I had to know why you’d say something so stupid. You were young and smart and beautiful and kind, everything good in this miserable world, but you were willing to give your life to save someone I’d thought was a cold-hearted, soulless, brooding, insensitive jerk, to trade your life for his. So I hid my book and ran to you, and fashioned a tourniquet, I made sure you wouldn’t die before I could question you, and then I ran to help Yu, because otherwise the Akuma would kill him and then you. 

“When I visited you in the Order’s Infirmary later, I brought flowers, and pretended to be worried about you, to care. And you believed me. You thanked me for saving your life, and for saving Yu, you told me what a good friend I was. And I just wanted to laugh in your face, over how stupid you were being, for someone so smart, how gullible. But I needed the answer to my question, so I kept all my scorn and derision hidden. I laughed at you on the inside.

“Then I asked you why you risked your life to save Yu. You were both Exorcists, so it didn’t matter which one of you lived, but it was wasteful for you both to die.  And you looked at me in shock, and then I saw pity and compassion in your eyes. You told me it was because Kanda was your brother, that all Exorcists were brothers and sisters, we were a family.

“But more, you said that every human life was irreplaceable and precious, that you could never stand by and watch someone die, because they were someone’s daughter or son, someone’s sister or brother, someone’s aunt or uncle or cousin, someone’s wife or husband, that someone, somewhere would mourn each of us when we were gone. That even orphans or people who thought themselves friendless touched the lives of everyone they met, in both big and small ways. Each life was like a light, a candle in the darkness of the world, and we couldn’t afford to let a single precious flame be extinguished. You said some candles were only tiny, sputtering flickers, but others were like torches in the night, and the brighter the flame, the greater the responsibility to keep the others lit.

“I laughed and said I must be a torch, then. But you shook your head and said, ‘No. Until today, you were a dying ember, a spark at the end of a burnt out wick in a puddle of hot wax and a sea of broken glass, all but extinguished.’ But because I’d saved you, and Yu, that precious wax had been poured into a new jar with a fresh new wick, and had been lit from the old one. That I still had a chance to help light the world, and spread the warmth of my flame.

“That was when I realized: you knew. Of everyone, you’d looked at me, and seen right through the mask of my smile, seen there was nothing underneath but the smoldering embers of my soul. But you’d still thought I was salvageable, that I was worth saving, and had fought beside me for that day, where I’d see it and believe it, and act on it. I never thanked you for that, Lenalee. Until now, I couldn’t even acknowledge it out loud.

“Bookman… He’s going to take away my name, when he finds out how much I’ve told you all now, how I’ve betrayed him. But I don’t care. Except… I like Lavi. He’s more me than anyone else I’ve ever been, since I was given my first new name by Bookman, my first false identity, a personality to be slipped on, like it was a coat. I’m certain he’ll make sure the Order takes Hammer from me as punishment, too,” Lavi said sadly, his hand going protectively and possessively to the Innocence weapon on his thigh.

“I should, you hooligan,” Bookman snapped from behind them, making even Kanda start in shock. “But I’m not about to waste all the years I’ve invested in training such a difficult apprentice, especially as we haven’t finished our research into the Order. It would be impossible to get another opportunity, now that you’ve betrayed us so completely. So now we get to see whether these three young upstarts are truly the friends you believe them to be. Whether they value their alleged friendship, their supposed brotherhood with you enough to lie to the Order, to keep our secrets,” Bookman challenged.

“Of course we’ll keep your secrets. Lavi is our friend, and Lenalee’s brother. We’d never betray him. Besides, in spite of how you became Exorcists, you’ve both been invaluable. We can’t afford to lose you,” Allen agreed.

“Friends? So Lavi isn’t your brother?” Bookman challenged.

Allen blushed. “No! I mean, he’s special like that, but…” How could he tell such an imposing and intimidating person what Lavi meant to him and Kanda, when he knew he would never approve?

Bookman’s eyes narrowed. “So I’ve seen. But I cannot allow that. It’s bad enough he considers Lenalee family. I won’t have him playing house with the two of you. Bookmen can’t have relationships. They’re distractions.”

“Your own daughter did! Lavi is her son, so she must have had a man in her life, whether or not she ever officially married him,” Lenalee argued.

He frowned. “She chose that life, having a husband and child, instead of becoming my apprentice. Because of her, I had to find another. I searched everywhere, and found the perfect candidate. I trained and groomed him for fifteen years, but I foolishly allowed my daughter’s words to sway me. I wasn’t as strict as I should have been.”

_Fifteen years? A stranger? Bookman had another apprentice, before Lavi?_ From the expression of wide-eyed disbelief, the rapt attention on his face, Allen saw that Lavi hadn’t known either.

Bookman continued, seemingly oblivious to the effect of his words upon Lavi. “He kept becoming involved in the lives of those we studied and observed. He kept interfering, changing history with his actions, instead of being an impartial observer. Instead of recording it. Until one day, nine years ago, he chose to save someone else’s life over his own.”

Bookman’s voice had become even more gruff with those final, fateful words. Allen could hear the grief mixed in with frustration, the pain beneath the carefully cultivated tones of annoyance, that Bookman was valiantly and foolishly trying to conceal.

“That is why I will not allow it. Either Lavi abandons this foolish notion of having the two of you as lovers, or husbands, or whatever he might be imagining, or I expose his perfidy to the Order, and you lose him completely,” Bookman challenged.

“If you hurt Lavi like that, I’ll kill you where you stand,” Kanda challenged, his voice deadly, his body instantly braced in a fighting stance, ready to attack, Mugen’s hilt in his hand.

“As if you could defeat me, whelp,” Bookman scoffed.

“Wait, stop, please!” Allen begged, interposing himself between the two.

“Honestly, for such an old man, you act more like a child than the four of them,” a reproving voice claimed from behind them.

“Komui!” Lenalee cried, the rest of them momentarily forgotten, as she sprang onto her brother, who had been attempting to sit up, pinning him back down on the bed with her fierce hug.

“Chief!” Allen said in surprise and relief, and then sudden fear. _How much did he hear? Does he know about Lavi? Will he be evicted from the Order? Or worse, will the Generals order him imprisoned, or even killed, for knowing too much?_

“Are you alright? Do you recognize all of us? Do you know me?” Lenalee asked, tears of both relief and fear streaming down her face.

“Of course I know you, my precious Lenalee. And I’m fi…” His eyes widened in sudden alarm and he unexpectedly pushed her away. “No! Stay back! They did something to me! I don’t want to hurt you!”

The hurt and fear in her face vanished as quickly as it flared. “Komui, it’s alright. The only thing they did to you was implant a bomb, but Circus removed and disarmed it. You’re safe now, and so are we. Please calm down,” Lenalee begged.

“A bomb? You’re sure that was the only thing? That I’m not infected, that I won’t become a Varuga, that I can’t harm you?” Komui asked, disbelief warring with astonished relief in his voice.

“Dr. Akari tested you and gave you a clean bill of health. He said your body is fine, no trace of contamination, but he wasn’t able to tell if there were other effects, psychological ones. But I don’t care if there are. I’ll help you through them, the way you helped me, when you finally freed me when you came to the Order,” she claimed desperately.

Komui relaxed back onto her bed at her words. Then he looked at each of them. “Thank you for saving me.”

Lenalee shook her head. “It wasn’t just us. It was Circus, too. We never could have done it without them to help us trick Kafka and attack and destroy their base. And Circus saved us from the Millennium Earl as well, before that, and drove him away. I’ll explain everything to you, once you’re ready to hear,” she promised.

“I’m ready now. But first, I need to be part of the deal you proposed to them, Bookman. I won’t reveal what I learned here today, about how you entered the Order and your actions within it, on two conditions. One: that you allow Lavi to remain an Exorcist, serving us in exactly the same capacity as he has been. And two: that you do not interfere with his romantic relationship with Allen and Kanda, and his platonic relationship with Lenalee and the other Exorcists, as well as the Finders and administrative staff of the Order.”

Bookman’s eyes narrowed in consideration and then he nodded in reluctant respect and agreement. “Very well. We continue on as we have been, with none of the rest of the Order the wiser,” he agreed.

Komui raised a challenging eyebrow.

“And I will not interfere with Lavi’s social life. But if it gets him and the others killed, it’s on your head, not mine,” Bookman snarled bitterly, but worry clearing underlying the frustration at being outmaneuvered.

“I’ll be careful, Panda. I won’t risk losing this,” Lavi swore, as he embraced Allen, Kanda and Lenalee.

“See that you are, whelp,” Bookman grumbled.

Lavi let them go and to Bookman’s surprise, hugged him instead. “Thanks, Grandfather,” he said sincerely.

Bookman patted him a single time on the back and then pulled away. “Impertinent fool.” He complained, but his voice was hoarse with emotion.

“Now then. Tell me everything,” Komui urged.


	31. Bonds Old and New

 

Gareki opened the door for Hirato before he could knock. Not that he would have necessarily knocked. But both the security cameras and the Sheep had announced his impending arrival.

“Going somewhere?” Hirato challenged mildly.

“No. Just being polite and opening the door. I’ve been waiting here for you to come yell at me. I mean debrief me,” Gareki replied, as he sat back down at his work bench. He automatically picked up his tools, more to have something to do with his hands than to do any real work. He’d already insert the chips from all the destroyed Sheep into knew carriage housings, and they were already on duty. All except for Lambchop. He was in the middle of running the final diagnostic on him, but he needed to concentrate for that.

Hirato eyed the tools in his hand with a raised eyebrows and Gareki rolled his eyes and put them down. “Don’t be so paranoid. They’re not weapons. I’d be holding my gun, if I wanted to attack you.”

“You’d never get the chance to use it,” Hirato said confidently.

“One of these days, after I’ve finished my training, I’ll be faster than you,” Gareki stated just as confidently.

“Possibly,” Hirato agreed, surprising Gareki by the admission. “But you’d still never shoot me,” he said smugly.

“Right. By then I’ll have something just as deadly as your banshees,” Gareki agreed.

Hirato frowned in annoyance. “I mean, you little twerp, that you won’t shoot me because we’re family. You’re my brother.”

“Tch. Right. Because I’ve got such a stellar track record with family that there’s nothing I’d value more,” Gareki scoffed sarcastically.

“Our father, Mana Walker, didn’t just abandon you, he abandoned all of us. For a reason other than incessant philandering, as it turns out. The people who called themselves your foster parents were just opportunistic lowlifes wanting to make easy money by selling you. The slavetraders… we’ll leave that story for another time. Tsubaki, Tsubame, Yotaka and their grandfather were your real family, though not related to you by blood. I intend someday to mean as much to you as they did, if I can manage it. I certainly hope to have a better relationship with you than I do with Tokitatsu,” Hirato claimed.

Gareki frowned at him. “Just what are you playing at, you Four-Eyed Turd? I thought you came in here to rake me over the coals or interrogate me or whatever, about the mission?”

Hirato sighed. “Can’t you say something nice to me, or even call me by name, just once in your life?”

Gareki smirked. “OK. You smell nice. I appreciate you taking the time to shower after your last ‘interrogation’,” he said, making quote marks in the air around the euphemism for what he and Akari had been doing – which he honestly didn’t want to think too much about – because while Dr. Akari was incredibly handsome, beautiful even, he was an old guy, and Hirato was his _brother_ , and… _ewww_.

Hirato opened his mouth, no doubt to snap something rude back, when he closed it again, with a thoughtful look on his face and then an answering smirk that had Gareki wanting to punch him in the face, just on principle. “What?” Gareki snapped in annoyance, for some stupid reason his cheeks heating in a blush.

The smirk widened to a self-satisfied grin. “You think Akari’s hot, and the thought of us…”

“That’s it! Get out of here!” Gareki demanded, pushing Hirato towards the door. “Unlike you, you lazy bastard, I have work to do.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop,” Hirato unexpectedly agreed, halting his forward momentum with annoying ease. “I really do need to debrief you about what happened at the base. And if you tell the truth and don’t try to leave half a dozen crucial elements out, you’ll be able to get back to repairing the Sheep without interruption, at least for a while. Deal?”

Gareki eyed him warily, but he seemed to be sincere. “Yeah. Alright. Deal,” he reluctantly agreed. Then internally, he smirked in secret satisfaction. Hirato had no idea how close to finished he was. Now he could work on all kinds of things, without him being the wiser.

0 0 0

Hirato closed the door to his room behind him and sighed in relief, able to truly relax for the first time in a long time. Akari, Tsukitachi, Gareki, Yogi and Tsukumo were safe, as were the rest of his crew. The injured were recovering. Both Kafka and the Earl had been defeated, temporarily at least. Routed from Ship’s Haven. Tomorrow, it would be time to put on their much delayed performance, but tonight he could rest. Although hopefully not alone.

There was a knock on his door, and then Akari entered without waiting for permission. “You should be in bed,” he chastised, with an adorable scowl that crinkled his nose in a most kissable way.

Hirato grinned. “My thoughts exactly, my dear Doctor.”

“Lech,” Akari grumbled, as he closed the door behind him, and locked it.

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” Hirato crowed.

“I plan to have you all sorts of ways,” Akari countered.

Hirato eyed him predatorily, like a cat ready to pounce, but Akari beat him to it, kissing him hungrily. No, he definitely wouldn’t be alone tonight.

0 0 0

Hirato fought a yawn, removing his hand from over his glass and covering his mouth with his hand instead, in a doomed effort to be polite. They were in his office, and Tsukitachi, who was well on his way to becoming rip-roaring drunk, took advantage of his momentary distraction and refilled his glass, sloshing a good portion over the rim.

“Drink with me,” Tsukitachi demanded.

“I think you’re quite thoroughly inebriated already,” Hirato argued. “How about you have some actual tea at this little tea party of yours,” he suggested, trying to be gentle about it.

Tsukitachi frowned. “It’s not a tea party. Akari’s not here. You apparently tired him out last night. Bloody bastard. You just had to rub my nose in it, didn’t you?” There was more hurt than accusation in his tone, which set off warning bells in Hirato’s head.

Tsukitachi continued sulkily. “You knew I liked him as much as you, but we both know he left off teaching and decided to devote himself fulltime to research, and chose your Ship to conduct his fieldwork on, because he was as intrigued and smitten by you as you were by him. He couldn’t care less about me. He never has. I’m man enough to admit it.”

“Tsukitachi…” Hirato began in concern, unsure quite what he should say, his heart clenching in his chest. He’d never wanted to hurt Tsukitachi. What if this drove an implacable wedge between them? What if it ruined years of friendship? If he and Tsukitachi truly became rivals, enemies?

“Piss off, Hirato. This is my concession speech. I’m attempting to bow out gracefully, you bloody sod. I admit it. You deserve the hand of the fair Doctor far more than I. We both know the only reasons I’ve even still been showing in this race was because you were both too damned proud to admit how you felt about one another, and because you stupid saps didn’t want to hurt my feelings. But what kind of friend would I be, to deny the happiness of my two best friends, simply because it leaves me alone, out in the cold?” Tsukitachi accused, each syllable carefully enunciated yet still sounding slurred, in the way only the truly inebriated can manage. Tsukitachi sighed and looked mournfully at the now empty bottle. “No more tea parties for me,” he complained softly, mournfully.

Hirato opened his mouth to protest, his heart racing and his tongue unusually tied, when there was an urgent sounding knock on his door.

“Come in,” Hirato called, without asking or checking to see who it was, eager for the momentary reprieve.

The door was flung open, and a stunning, flustered dark haired man with wire framed glasses in a white beret and coat with a now familiar star over his left breast burst into the room. _Chief Komui._

Tsukitachi blinked, and rose swayingly to his feet. “Hullo beautiful. Where have you been all my life?” he asked, a familiar and relieving look of lust in his eyes.

“I…” the man actually blushed, the way Akari would have, if Hirato had said something so inappropriately flirtatious to him, in front of strangers. “Ahem. I’m sorry to intrude,” the man continued politely. “But I’m looking for Lenalee.”

Tsukitachi’s face immediately fell. “Of course you are,” he muttered in disgust and renewed despair, and sank back down into his seat, or attempting to do so, with all the control and grace of a puppet who’s strings had been cut. He missed the chair entirely, and instead fell to the floor, cracking his jaw on the table so loudly Hirato flinched. The Ship One Captain ended up unceremoniously sprawled on his ass on the floor, just in time for Akari to enter the room, through the still open door.

Both Hirato and Akari moved to help Tsukitachi, but they were blocked by the table, and Chief Komui, who was quicker. “No, don’t try to get up. It sounds like you might have broken your jaw. No, don’t touch it. I’m a doctor. Let me examine it,” he insisted.

“I’m sorry for barging in like this. I don’t believe we’ve met, although you might have seen me when I was unconscious. I’m Komui Lee, Chief of the Black Order. No, don’t try to talk. I’ll ask these other two gentlemen. You haven’t happened to have seen a pretty, ponytailed girl in a black dress and boots, have you? She’s my sister. Her name is Lenalee. I heard that she was speaking to someone by the name of Jiki, only I’m not sure which Ship he’s on,” the man explained.

Hirato’s concern melted away and he smiled, seeing the solicitous way the handsome young doctor was treating Tsukitachi, and the renewed flash of interest in his friend’s eyes, now that he heard the girl was the man’s sister, not his paramour. “She couldn’t be in safer hands. Lieutenant Jiki is a perfect gentleman,” Hirato lied convincingly. Jiki looked the part, but he was no less a rake at heart than Tsukitachi, though Hirato now suspected much of that on his friend’s part was a smokescreen, to protect his wounded heart.

Come to think of it, perhaps Jiki had been reacting the same way, but Tsukumo finally appeared to have realized Jiki existed, much to Hirato’s relief. He thought of her as a daughter, and he’d been painfully aware she had seen him in quite a different light, until recently.

“You’ll have to excuse us, but the good Doctor and I have Ship’s business to attend to,” Hirato prevaricated smoothly, as he moved to whisk Akari out the door. For once, Akari didn’t protest to being manhandled, apparently as eager as he to leave Tsukitachi alone with Doctor and Chief Komui.

Akari snorted as they entered the hall. “A Chief and a Doctor. It’s like both of us rolled into one, just what Tsukitachi always wanted. But do you think the man can handle Tsukitachi?”

There was a yelp from inside the room. “Ow! I thought you said you were a doctor!”

“Don’t be such a crybaby. How else did you expect me to see whether it’s broken? The good news is, it’s not.”

“Whatever happened to kissing it to make it better instead?” Tsukitachi grumbled.

Silence met Hirato’s straining ears, and he smiled a second time as he imagined the most likely reason for the sudden quiet. “I think Chief Komui can handle Tsukitachi just fine,” Hirato said confidently, as he slipped his arm around Akari’s waist, ducking out of the way of his elbow just in time, as his smile transformed into his more natural smirk, all once more right again with his world.

0 0 0

“Timcanpy!” Allen cried in relief, as Finder Stephan held the golden golem out to him. “Were did you find him?” he asked, as he gently cupped his hands about the golem.

“He was in a cage. Exorcist Bookman’s golem led us to him,” Finder Stephan replied.

“We told you he’d be fine,” Lavi chided affectionately. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay for the performance Circus is putting on?”

Allen shook his head, as he held Timcanpy. It would be too weird, being in the audience, instead of performing, as he used to when he was younger and starving. And he just wanted to get back to the Order. Home. Although he wasn’t really looking forward to any more time aboard a sailing ship, after the storm he’d weathered.

“We’ll all be staying,” Lenalee decreed. “My brother told me Circus has offered to transport us and all our support personnel back to Headquarters. They’ll be able to fly us in less than a day, what would take weeks for us to sail. Komui told me he also has a letter that Captain Hirato needs to…” Lenalee trailed off, biting her lip and looking guiltily at Allen.

“A letter?” he prodded.

She put her hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. “It’s one your foster father, Mana Walker, wrote to General Cross. Komui thought Captain Hirato would like to read it. But… I don’t think Komui wanted you to know about it. I don’t know what it says, but there’s something you shouldn’t see.”

Allen swallowed hard. _Did Mana say something bad about me? Was I a disappointment to him, or a burden? Did he suspect I would do something awful, if he died, that I’d betray him like I did, turning him into an Akuma?_

“Brilliant, Lenalee. Now he’s depressed again. If he cries…” Kanda left the threat hanging with a scowl.

“I’m sorry. So much has happened, I didn’t think before I spoke. It’s nothing bad about you, Allen. Just something you’re not supposed to know yet, though I’m not sure what,” Lenalee assured him.

“Now that we’re off the Ship, why don’t we find an inn and get two rooms, and some dinner,” Lavi suggested.

Kanda frowned. “Two?”

“One for the three of us, and one for Lenalee. Unless you’re staying on the Ship with Komui?” Lavi asked Lenalee.

She shook her head. “Definitely not. I love him, but… Besides, I think for the first time, he might be happy not to have his little sister underfoot,” she said mysteriously, with a mischievous smile on her face.

“Why?” Kanda demanded.

“Let’s just say my brother’s taste in men is similar to our father’s, and leave it at that,” she replied with a sly smile.

Allen frowned in concern. “He likes Captain Hirato? But it looked like he and Dr. Akari are together.”

“Idiot. She meant his taste is the same as yours and mine,” Kanda snapped.

_But we both like La…_ “Oh! You meant Captain Tsukitachi. That’s alright then,” Allen said in relief.

“We’re a very handsome, desirable family, you know,” Lavi boasted.

“You do realize General Cross is your father,” Allen instantly replied.

Lavi scowled and then shrugged. “So, two out of three isn’t bad.”

“Bookman is your grandfather,” Kanda reminded him.

Lavi frowned again. “Alright. Two out of four.”

“I don’t know if I like those odds,” Allen teased. “You won’t stay young forever.”

“What are you worried about the odds for? You cheat at cards, remember,” Lavi replied.

“Sometimes it’s the only way to win,” Allen admitted.

“Well, I think the three of you have already won,” Lenalee said with a sweet smile, as she hugged each of them in turn.

“Food,” Kanda demanded, squirming out of her hug.

Allen, Lenalee and Lavi all laughed. “Alright. Dinner time.”


	32. Farewell Performance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go, after this one! 
> 
> If you haven’t read my other stories on Archive of Our Own, and like Voltron, Boku No Hero, or Zettai Karen Children/Unlimited Psychic Squad, please take a look. I also have two Attack on Titan stories and a Soul Eater story posted on Fanfiction.net. Plus you can read my published original high fantasy series, Descent of Kings, a series about valiant and desperate heroes, and epic battles and quests, in a medieval world populated by humans, Elves, Dwarves, Ogres and mythical beasts, battling a god-like insane necromancer and his army of the dead (written before I ever even heard of George R. R. Martin). It includes strong female and male, multi-ethnic, bisexual and gay characters. It is available on Amazon and from the publisher, Dreamspinner.

 

 

Gareki scanned the rubble of the destroyed and cordoned off buildings, a scavenger’s paradise. The lone police officer he spotted would be painfully easy to avoid. But the intact darkened houses all around them were a far more tempting target for any thief.

Hirato had made sure the Mayor understood that the entire constabulary should be on duty tonight, to protect the homes of its citizens, standard procedure in every City they visited. It would be painfully easy to burgle the homes of the City while everyone was at the Circus performance.

 _Of course, for anyone as good as me it would be a cakewalk even with the entire police force mobilized._ Months ago, a night like this would have made him rich, at least until he made another payment at the hospital.

He forced the dark thought aside. That wasn’t his life, anymore. Circus was paying for the old man’s care. Instead, he had Nai to worry about, and Yogi. And maybe even Hirato, he reluctantly admitted. 

Nai hesitated as they crossed in front of a dimly lit alleyway, and then grabbed Gareki’s hand and tugged him to a stop.

“Nai, we’re going to be late for the performance, and we both still have to get into costume. We don’t have time for you to go exploring,” Gareki complained, glad for the excuse to speak. He wasn’t any good at small talk, but it was too quiet.

“I’m not. It’s the boy, the cold one, the one who tricked me. He’s in trouble,” Nai said anxiously, with a concerned frown.

“Good,” Gareki replied, in satisfaction. “He deserves whatever’s coming to him.” He peered down the alley, expecting to see a gang of thugs about to beat the boy, but was surprised to instead see a muscular, tough but motherly looking middle aged woman facing him.

Oddly, the boy shifted, as if readying to run, but revealing the glint of a knife in his hand, behind his back, ready to strike. _Damn it! That woman’s in trouble!_

“Nai, stay back!” Gareki urgently demanded, as he drew his gun and aimed it at the kid. “Drop the knife, kid!” Gareki ordered.

The boy jerked his head towards him, and too late the wrongness of the situation hit Gareki. There was a look of pure terror on the boy’s bruised and bleeding face as he turned, before he saw the gun, the boy’s pants were distinctively wet in the front, he’d clearly urinated on himself, and he was shaking so hard he actually dropped his knife.

“Kill it! Kill it!” the boy screamed through a mouthful of blood, his voice pained and distorted, as he began running from the woman, a look of wild, desperate hope in his eyes as he ran towards the barrel of Gareki’s gun.

“You! The boy who destroyed my Master’s gate!” the woman shrieked in sick glee, her eyes wild with triumph as they focused on Gareki, her voice a bizarre, chilling mixture of child and woman and something both mechanical and inhuman. And in that instant she tore apart, her flesh splattering the walls of the alley and a metal monstrosity pulsing in her place.

_Akuma! How could we have missed one?_

“Nai, run! Get Yogi, Hirato!” Gareki cried, needing Nai, at least, to be safe, as he fired into the black and white face on the balloon-like creature, aiming for its eyes as it lunged for him, hoping the new gun and bullets he’d designed and built aboard ship with the Sheep’s help might at least keep the Akuma at bay long enough for Nai to escape, and maybe, if he was lucky, for him to run too.

0 0 0

“You’re sure you don’t want to come in with me, Allen? Nothing in the world is supposed to be as impressive as a Circus performance,” Lenalee coaxed, her excited but wistful face lit by the bright, multicolored spotlights surrounding the tent. It was bright as day here, beside the big top.

The houses had been dark and the streets all but deserted on their way to the brightly lit big top; it sounded like the entire City was inside, and likely most of those sailors who were still in port, many of whom would be leaving in the morning, now that Circus had assured them the weather would be seasonably clear. From the roar of the crowd, the show was about to begin.

But Allen was in no mood to celebrate. They’d survived, but two Finders were dead, in addition to the civilians. He’d already been heartsick at the loss of the Journey’s End, of all Marlene’s employees, her family, as well as the customers who had died. He’d been anxious to see Marlene, though he had no idea what he might say or do, but he hadn’t been able to find her. He hoped she was staying with friends, and not just in a boardinghouse somewhere. Nothing could heal her loss, though time would dull the ache, but the support of friends could help ease her pain.

The familiar gleeful strains of music, sounds of laughter and excitement, and smells of popcorn and cotton candy only made him feel that much more heartsick. They’d brought him to the edge of tears with nostalgia. He wouldn’t be able to maintain his façade, if he went inside. Thankfully, neither Kanda nor Lavi were inside. They were instead waiting for him, back at their new inn.

Allen smiled reassuringly at Lenalee, the fake smile Lavi understood and used himself, the one Kanda hated. “No, Lenalee. I promised Komui I’d walk you here, but Kanda and Lavi and I just want to relax these final few hours, before we leave on the Ship for the Order. But you need to go in. Your brother’s waiting for you. Have a good time,” he urged, gently pushing her inside.

She bit her lip. “If you’re sure?” she asked, with a final reluctant look over her shoulder.

He nodded, smiling his artificially bright smile, and she thankfully went inside.

Allen exhaled in relief and let the fake smile fall, hating how his chest ached, as he began heading quickly back to the inn, to Lavi and Kanda. But he was careful not to let his morose mood distract him. He still scanned his surroundings carefully as he hurried down the dark streets, from pool to pool of streetlight.

With practically the entire City at the performance, it would be an ideal time for thieves to break into the unoccupied homes, taking advantage of the owners’ absence. These people had been through far too much already. The last thing they needed was to find their homes burgled.

He was halfway back to the inn, when to his horror, surging beneath the bandage about his left eye, he felt the familiar tugging change indicative of his eye detecting an Akuma. He tore off the bandage and began to run, his fortunately surprisingly healed eye guiding him, just as the sounds of gunfire exploded across the formerly quiet street.

There was a flash of white hair ahead, and Allen recognized it was Nai running towards him.

“Allen! Gareki!” Nai yelled, his friend’s name a plea for aid even as bright beams of pink flashed diagonally across the darkened street behind him, illuminating but fortunately just missing the rooftops.

“Keep running!” Allen ordered as he tore past the small boy, hoping he wasn’t already too late to save Gareki, as flash after flash of pink shot seemingly randomly across the sky, blasting deep gouges in a number of the rooftops, sending shingles flying, puzzling Allen, until he got close enough to see a dark form leaping from one rooftop to another, mere steps ahead of the deadly beam. _Gareki!_

The Akuma rose into the sky, in pursuit of its tormentor, still firing, even as a fresh hail of bullets followed its path, surprisingly causing it to list drunkenly.

 _Gareki’s bullets are actually harming it!_ Allen realized in shock. Then, to his dismay, he saw the damned soul of the Akuma clearly and recognized it instantly. _Daniel!_ The dead boy’s spirit was sobbing, guilt and grief stricken. _Which means… oh no… Everyone else was dead. Marlene must have been the one to summon Daniel._ _Her body is the one the Akuma stole._

In grief for Daniel and Marlene, fury against the Earl, and a fierce need to protect Gareki, Allen raised his Akuma weapon arm, transforming it into cannon mode, cursing as the Akuma dipped behind a structure on the roof, which blocked him from taking the shot. Belatedly he saw why Gareki still lived, why he’d successfully evaded so far, why the Akuma had missed its target: the Akuma had been blinded by the bullets. Its face was pockmarked with bullet holes. But even as Allen watched, the holes healed and sight was restored in one of its eyes.

“Daniel!” Allen cried, needing to draw the Akuma’s attention to him, so it would move towards him and away from Gareki, so he could get a clear shot and hit it without damaging the building. Far too many homes and businesses had been destroyed already, and he couldn’t afford to only injure it.

“You’re still alive? You can see me?” Daniel’s voice cried in both hope and panic, as he focused on Allen. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you! I thought I killed you! But I… no! Marlene! Even if you and the others are alright, he made me… I killed Marlene! I knew it! I’m going to hell!” Daniel’s trapped soul cried out in anguish.

“You didn’t kill anyone, Daniel. Lavi, Lenalee, Kanda and I all survived. The Earl made you kill Marlene, the way he’s making you attack Gareki. It’s not your fault. It’s time to rest now, Daniel. Time to see your family, Marlene and the others, in heaven,” Allen soothed the grief stricken boy solemnly.

A look of hope flashed across the anguished spirit’s face, even as he grimaced, fighting not to attack Allen.

Allen fired, freeing the tortured spirit and obliterating the hideous, tormented monster the boy had become.

  
0 0 0

Yogi’s heart was racing as he approached the all too familiar, ominous pink flashes of light and the rapidly nearing sound of gunfire. Hirato had sent him to find out what was delaying Gareki and Nai. The last thing he had expected to find was an Akuma attack! They had been convinced both Kafka and the Earl’s forces had been destroyed in this City. He knew with sick certainty Gareki and Nai were the ones in danger. And sure enough, he heard a voice calling out in panic from below.

“Yogi-kun! Help Gareki-kun and Allen-kun!” Nai called, pointing towards the flashes of light, just as more gunfire erupted.

Yogi paled and flew faster, hating abandoning Nai, but knowing both Gareki’s and Allen’s lives depended upon it. Allen was likely still far too weak to survive an Akuma attack. As for Gareki, there was no way his bullets would have any effect on that monster. Gareki was sacrificing himself to save Nai and protect Allen.

There were more pink flashes, more gunfire, and then a massive explosion. Yogi arrived at the scene of the battle and froze in shock at what he saw. Allen was standing there, but in place of his arm was a monstrous metal cannon, and where his injured left eye should have been was a glowing red circle of light amidst metal. _Has he been turned into a Varuga?_

But even as he watched, the weapon transformed back into an arm, and the machinery on his face changed to a very human looking grey eye. “Gareki-kun? It’s destroyed. Are you alright?” Allen called, sounding worried, as he scanned the rooftops anxiously, his gaze focused on a collapsed chimney.

“Gareki-kun!” Yogi cried as he flew to the rooftop. If one of the Akuma’s blasts had hit him, even a glancing blow, he’d be dead, covered in black stars and then turned to dust and….

“Damn it!” an achingly sweet voice cursed, as the pile of shattered brick shifted and a shaky form stood up from the rubble.

“Gareki-kun!” Yogi was at his side in an instant, running frantic eyes and hands over his body, looking for the deadly black stars, for blood, for injuries.

“Yogi?” Gareki asked, sounding dazed and confused. “I didn’t think Nai could run that fast. He made it all the way to the big top? Or did I pass out?” he asked, as he brushed powdered brick off his sleeves.

Yogi embraced him, trying not to hug too hard, in case he was injured where he couldn’t see. “Gareki-kun! Allen saved you! Are you alright? Are you injured?”

“Allen?” Gareki frowned, and then he cursed again. “Of course. I should have known my bullets wouldn’t work. No. I’m fine.” Then his eyes widened in alarm. “Nai, is he safe? That kid that helped kidnap him before was out here,” Gareki said, sounding both furious and anxious.

Yogi tightened his grip in reply and flew Gareki down to the street, depositing him in front of Allen. “Please protect him!” he ordered, and then he flew back the way he’d come, looking for Nai.

  
0 0 0

“Are you alright?” Allen asked Gareki solicitously.

“I’m fine. Damn it! I thought the bullets would work better than that, though I didn’t expect to have a chance to field test them this soon,” Gareki complained. _If it wasn’t for this Exorcist, I’d be dead._ “Thanks,” he added belatedly.

“I’m just glad you’re alright. And actually, that was amazing. I know those other Circus weapons could harm and even destroy Akuma, but from what I heard, I didn’t think your bullets could. But you blinded it, at least temporarily. You’re an excellent shot. Not many people can hit a moving target that’s attacking them and evade it at the same time. You’re amazing!” Allen praised, to Gareki’s surprise.

“I’d have been dead without you,” Gareki admitted, hating knowing it was true, but more readily able to admit it, in the face of such praise.

“The Akuma aren’t your normal enemy, the Varuga are. I was actually relieved you didn’t destroy it. That way, I was able to free Daniel’s soul. Otherwise, it would have been destroyed. He already suffered enough, because of the Earl, died because of him. He didn’t deserve to have his spirit destroyed. At least he’s finally at peace now,” Allen said, to his consternation.

Gareki shook his head. From what he’d heard, that Daniel was the one who’d poisoned and nearly killed them, it was his fault their friend Kanda was caught and tortured. Allen was far more forgiving than he’d ever be. No wonder he was chosen by God. He had the pure soul of an angel. _Tch. As if God and angels really exist,_ Gareki scoffed in the next moment. _And why am I standing here talking to Allen? I should be looking for Nai too._

But then he spotted Yogi, flying towards them, Nai in his arms, and a shaft of moonlight illuminated the two of them, bathing them in an unearthly glow. And for a moment, the two of them truly looked angelic.

“Gareki-kun!” they both cried in relief, and then he was tackle-hugged by them.

“Careful, you idiots! I didn’t just survive an Akuma attack to be crushed by you two,” Gareki complained, but in relief, without any real rancor. He was too happy they were both alright.

“Thank you for saving Gareki-kun!” Yogi told Allen effusively.

Allen looked embarrassed by the praise. “He almost didn’t need my help,” Allen said generously, to Gareki’s further surprise. “But I’m glad I was here.”

“Do you think there are any other Akuma that we haven’t discovered?” Yogi asked in concern.

“There might be a few others, like Marlene, victims of the earlier attack who were desperate to resurrect their lost loved ones. We need to search the City fully and carefully tomorrow, to be safe,” Allen responded.

Gareki frowned, confused. “Marlene? I thought you said it was Daniel?”

Allen nodded. “It was both of them. The body was Marlene, our innkeeper, but the soul the Earl used was Daniel, a little boy who was like a son to her. That’s what the Earl does. He uses people’s grief against them, tricking them into creating monsters that then destroy them and take over their bodies, to corrupt and kill others.”

“We need to get to the big top and tell Captain Hirato what’s happened. You should come with us, to be safe,” Yogi said.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own. You can tell him what happened. I need to get back to my inn, or Kanda and Lavi will worry,” Allen argued.

“You’re not watching the show?” Yogi asked in surprise, sounding hurt.

Allen shook his head. “No. I’m sorry, but I don’t really have much to celebrate and we really need our rest. Lavi especially.”

“You’re sure you’ll be alright walking alone?” Yogi asked doubtfully.

“I’ll be fine. You three go on,” Allen urged.

“Alright. Thanks again,” Yogi reluctantly agreed, and then he wrapped one arm around Gareki and one around Nai and sprang into the air.


	33. Friends and Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter of this story. Thank you so much for all your wonderful support! 
> 
> If you haven’t read my other stories on Archive of Our Own, and like Voltron, Boku No Hero, Karneval/D. Gray-man, or Zettai Karen Children/Unlimited Psychic Squad, please take a look. I also have two Attack on Titan stories and a Soul Eater story posted on Fanfiction.net. 
> 
> Plus you can read my published original high fantasy series, Descent of Kings, a series about valiant and desperate heroes, and epic battles and quests, in a medieval world populated by humans, Elves, Dwarves, Ogres and mythical beasts, battling a god-like insane necromancer and his army of the dead (written before I ever even heard of George R. R. Martin). It includes strong female and male, multi-ethnic, bisexual and gay characters. It is available on Amazon and from the publisher, Dreamspinner.

Allen opened the inn room door with his key, trying to enter quietly, in case Kanda and Lavi were sleeping. Kanda was in the chair next to the bed, oiling Mugen, and Lavi was lying on the bed, but on top of the covers. Both of them frowned in concern when they saw him, Kanda immediately surging to his feet and heading for him, and Lavi grabbing for his crutches.

“I’m alright,” Allen assured them, closing the door behind him and locking it.

“What happened?” Kanda demanded.

“Your shirtsleeve is ripped and your eye is uncovered,” Lavi observed, sounding nearly as tense.

Allen sighed. “It was an Akuma. It attacked Gareki and Nai, but fortunately I was able to save them. Although Gareki was almost able to defeat it without my aid. They’re both unhurt, and Yogi made sure they’ll make it safely to the performance,” Allen reported.

Kanda’s frown deepened. “You were with Gareki and Yogi?”

“No. I was walking by myself, but then my eye activated, and I heard the gunfire, and saw the energy blasts, just as Nai appeared and ran up asking for help. Yogi came after I’d already defeated it. It wasn’t a big fight. It was… Daniel and Marlene. The Earl tricked her into bringing him back. When Daniel saw me, he fought against the Earl’s control. It was easy to free his spirit,” Allen explained.

“It might not have taken a lot of effort, but it wasn’t easy, not if it was Marlene and Daniel. I’m sorry that it was you, that you had to see them like that,” Lavi said sympathetically.

“You’re sure you’re not injured?” Kanda pressed.

“I’m fine. Or I will be, after a hug,” Allen said hopefully.

In less than a heartbeat, two strong pairs of arms were wrapped around him, and Allen felt the stress and tension and grief melt away with the warmth of their embrace. “I’m glad you’re here,” Allen said into Lavi’s chest.

“We’re glad you’re here too, that you’re safe,” Lavi replied, for both him and Kanda.

“You need to eat,” Kanda said unexpectedly.

“I’m not hungry,” Allen replied.

“I don’t care. That parasitic weapon of yours has been draining you. I can feel your ribs and you’re going to need the energy. You need to eat,” Kanda reiterated.

Allen frowned. “I said I’m not… wait. What am I going to need energy for?” Allen asked, suddenly more puzzled than annoyed.

Kanda stared at him as if it should be obvious, and Lavi smirked. “And I thought you weren’t the brightest candle, Yu. But even you know what the three of us with a night off and a big bed should be doing,” Lavi replied.

Allen’s face immediately flushed with heat.

“What do you expect from a Bean Sprout?” Kanda scoffed.

“Not a Bean Sprout. A sapling. To be specific, a cherry tree,” Lavi argued with a lecherous grin.

Allen felt his blush intensify. “Well then. I guess today is someday,” he said in feigned calm, his heart starting to hammer in anticipation, as he sat down and began taking off his boots.

“What do you mean, someday?” Lavi asked, puzzled.

Allen pulled off his boots one by one and then stood. “General Cross always told me I’d understand someday,” Allen replied with artificial coolness, as he took off his damaged Exorcist coat and then unbuckled and removed his belt and tossed it onto the chair.

He had both Lavi’s and Kanda’s undivided attention now.

“I’ll eat later. First one on the bed gets to be in the middle,” Allen said with a grin that rivaled Lavi’s, as he dove onto the bed, and then braced himself for impact as Lavi and Kanda both realized what he’d said.

0 0 0

One look at Gareki and Nai in Yogi’s arms as they entered the makeup tent had Hirato at their side, all thoughts of scolding them for their lateness vanished. “What happened?” he demanded.

Nai was pale, clinging to both Gareki and Yogi, and Gareki looked like he’d been in one hell of a fight, his clothes dirty and torn.

“Akuma,” Gareki replied, his voice clipped.

Hirato’s eyes widened and his gaze snapped to Yogi. “You destroyed it?” he demanded.

“Allen-chan did,” Yogi explained.

 _Allen?_ Hirato frowned. “Is he alright?”

Yogi nodded. “He went back to his inn, to Kanda-kun and Lavi-kun. He said they’ll need to check the City thoroughly before they leave, that there may be other Akuma we missed.”

“Wonderful. And I thought the Varuga were elusive,” Hirato muttered. “Well, it’s too late to postpone the performance. We’d have a riot on our hands. We’ll just have to be as discrete as possible tomorrow, when we search, and try not to frighten anyone or cause any further damage to the city.

“Gareki was wonderful! He stayed on the roofs so the Akuma fired at him instead of the buildings, and he blinded it with his bullets,” Nai claimed proudly, hero worship in his eyes.  

Hirato felt the blood drain from his face. “You did what?” he rasped. _Gareki used himself as bait? He drew the Akuma’s fire by shooting at it? If just one of those beams had hit him, even a glancing blow… Dust. Gareki could have been a pile of dust._ “You idiot! You know bullets can’t hurt it, yet you intentionally put yourself at risk to…”

“To save Nai’s life!” Gareki yelled back. “It’s not like Allen was there at first! And I wounded it, blinded it, kept it chasing after me, so Nai could get away, because I already lost Tsubame and Yotaka, and I’m not losing Nai!”

Hirato could see Gareki was infuriated, but there were also tears in his eyes, and he was shaking. Belatedly, Hirato realized he’d been terrified of losing Nai, ready to sacrifice himself, knowing he was powerless against that monster, but terrified of dying, too. _And I belittled him for his bravery, his willingness to sacrifice himself. And Nai looks devastated, for getting Gareki scolded.  Damn it._

“You didn’t listen to what Nai-chan said, Hirato-san,” Yogi chided. “Gareki-kun was amazing. It wasn’t his normal gun or bullets. He wounded it, blinded it, nearly killed it without Allen’s or my help.”

 _He must have made another new weapon, like the Sheep dung. He keeps surprising me. This is my fault, for underestimating him, for trying to protect him, instead of arming him better._ “Forgive me, Gareki. Thank you for protecting Nai, and the City. We’ll talk more about this while you both get your makeup on and get dressed. You’re both still up to performing?” Hirato wouldn’t push Gareki, but he knew coddling him would be worse.

“Of course I’m performing,” Gareki replied.

Hirato’s relief at his response was short lived.

“I have to do something to earn my keep, so I’m not completely useless,” Gareki muttered bitterly, as he turned away, obviously not realizing Hirato could still hear him.

Hirato exhaled loudly in frustration. It was thinking like that that was going to get his little brother killed someday.

0 0 0

Lenalee watched in awe as act after act performed, in a dazzling display of light and color and sound, of acrobatics and animals and mechanical marvels. Her hand was linked with Komui’s, both of them needing the physical contact to prove each other was safe, that they were together again.

To her relief, the joy and wonder on Komui’s face mirrored what she felt. She hadn’t been sure he’d ever smile again, after what he’d been through. “Thank you God, for saving him,” she whispered reverently, an intent prayer, in spite of their surroundings.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Komui asked, turning to her.

She smiled up at him. “I’m so happy,” she replied, honestly. Because nothing could make her happier than being with the brother she loved.

0 0 0

After a careful, thorough check of the City the day after the performance, supplemented by the cadre of Finders and the Order’s Exorcists, Hirato was convinced they’d weeded out the last of the Akuma, and by sunset, both Ships were headed for the Order’s European Headquarters, with their special passengers. Hirato had made sure Komui, Bookman and Lenalee were on Ship One, with half their Finders, and Allen, Lavi and Kanda were on Ship Two with the other half. Tsukitachi had instantly approved of his passengers. Hirato was pleased to see that Tsukitachi was just as smitten with Chief Komui sober as he had been drunk, and the attraction was most definitely mutual.

Personally, Hirato looked forward to speaking with Allen during the duration of the flight. He wanted to get to know the boy who had been like a son to his father. Kanda and Lavi reluctantly allowed them to speak in private, only because Allen asked them to, after Hirato had broached the topic of Mana Walker.

“Thank you for agreeing to speak with me. I know this is likely hard for you, that you must have some level of affection for my father,” Hirato stated. The look of grief that darkened the boy’s sunny face made Hirato uncomfortable. Allen had apparently loved Mana in a way he never had.

All of Hirato’s carefully constructed, stilted questions flew out the window. “Tell me about him. I want to see him through your eyes,” Hirato urged.

“I… alright,” Allen agreed.

“Wait. Gareki should hear this too, but I don’t think… And Tokitatsu. Would you mind if I record it? Like your golems do, both audio and video, so they can hear as well,” Hirato explained, surprising himself by asking. He could have just stopped the security camera bypass in his quarters to record without asking.

“That’s fine,” Allen said.

Hirato pulled up the program and stared at it in consternation for a moment, before laughing in frustration and looking up at the camera. “You could have asked to join me, Gareki, instead of hacking the camera. Come in here, so you can hear with me, in case you have any questions. That’s an order, by the way. But leave the camera on, so Tokitatsu can hear,” he added.

A few moments later Gareki appeared at his doorway, entering after knocking, but without waiting for permission, and without looking at all sheepish for what he’d done.

Hirato stood and waved him and Allen to the sofa. We might as well all be as physically comfortable as possible.” He knew this was going to be an awkward conversation at best.

0 0 0

Hirato was impressed by the welcome the prodigal Exorcists and Finders received, when they disembarked from the Ships at the Black Order Headquarters. It was blatantly obvious these men and women were not merely respected, but loved. Although the effusiveness of the greeting Komui received had Tsukitachi looking quietly jealous, especially the attention a man named Reever paid to the Chief, particularly when Komui blushed at something Reever said, until both men looked in Tsukitachi’s direction and Komui’s blush darkened, and Reever looked approving, instead of jealous.

The crews of both Ships were given the promised tour of the Order’s facilities, led by Chief Komui, and then were guests at a quite frankly astonishing banquet. Hours later, after festivities had begun to quiet down, Komui invited both him and Tsukitachi to his office for coffee, though the man must have drunk at least a gallon, from an absurdly ridiculous rabbit mug that had Nai grinning in delight.

Hirato attempted to bow out gracefully, certain that Tsukitachi would welcome some private time with the Chief, until Komui explained he had a letter written by Mana Walker to Marian Cross that he thought both of them would wish to see, as well as stories he wanted to share about the two men who had raised him. He told them Lenalee, Allen and Lavi would both be joining them for the stories, but not the letter.

That had Hirato suitably intrigued enough to agree, but he asked that Gareki be allowed to join them for the stories as well, as he should also get to hear more stories about his absentee father, and Komui agreed.

Once he, Tsukitachi and Komui were all settled in his office, Komui produced a letter from a locked drawer in his desk. “I recommend you both read it silently to yourselves, together. I’d read it aloud to you both, but frankly, I wouldn’t be able to get through it without crying,” Komui admitted solemnly, his voice sounding unusually rough. “You might question how your fathers felt about you, and I don’t condone what they did, but there is no question that they truly loved one another, and I’m sure you might doubt it, but the two of you, as well.”

Hirato bit his tongue to keep from arguing the point. His father’s lack of affection was brutally clear, and not open for debate.

Komui reverently lifted the flap of the envelope and drew the letter from inside, unfolded it and handed it to him. “I only ask that you do not share what is written here about Allen Walker with anyone in the Order, and preferably, not with anyone in your own organization either. Allen is in quite enough danger already.”

That last had Hirato eager to read the letter he’d been reluctant to see. Hirato held it so Tsukitachi could see too, and then began to read.

_Dearest Marian,_

_I’m sorry, Cross. I know how much you always hated your given name, but I had to tease you one final time, my Maid Marian. Perhaps as a vain attempt to bring a smile to those lips I remember so well. I know how much it will hurt, you receiving this, after years of silence from me. You’ll think I’ve forgotten about you, abandoned you…_

_No, as much as I tried to tell myself you would, I know you’ll realize the truth, and it tears my heart that I’m too much of a proud fool, that you’ll think I deserved my loneliness, while you didn’t… but I’m certain you’ll understand. You would have done the same, if it happened to you: if you lost Judgment. I am both thankful and sorrowful that you never did. I miss you more than words can say. Not a single day or night has passed without my thinking of you, without wishing you were where you belong, at my side._

_If you’ve received this letter, then someone will have found it on my body, stamped and addressed to you, and mailed it to you on my behalf. Perhaps even Allen himself, if he is old enough, but I fear he will not be. I feel a pending sense of dread that I cannot shake. I need to tell him soon, about the Earl, about the rest, to warn him, to make sure he is as prepared for my eventual passing as he can be, but he is still so young, so timid, such a gentle, innocent soul._

_You’ll think it was selfish of me for keeping Allen hidden from The Order for so long, and perhaps you’re right. I was protecting him, so he wouldn’t become another of their miserable child captives, forced into a life of terror and warrior servitude he’d never wanted, but I know Allen. Gentle and kind as he is, he’d willingly slay monsters, risking his life without a second thought, to save another. I think I was just trying to reclaim my own lost Innocence, in both meanings of the word._

_Allen was abandoned by his parents, left entirely alone in the world, to rely only upon the charity of strangers. I know he was attacked, beaten, even stoned, more than once. I’ve seen the scars, and he cries out from nightmares about it. You know how voracious parasitic type anti-Akuma weapons are. When I found him, I could see every rib. He was literally little more than skin and bones. It took weeks of gradually feeding him more and more, so as not to shock his system and kill him, until the first time I ever heard him answer my question, “Are you full?” with the word, “Yes.”_

_Please don’t hate him. He doesn’t even know about you. It’s not him that’s kept me from you. I only hope Tokitatsu and Hirato don’t hate him either, if they are ever to meet him. If you ever have occasion to see them again, please tell them I loved them until the end. I would have written them as well, but I doubt they’ll ever forgive me for abandoning them or their respective mothers. After all this time, I honestly have no idea what I could possibly say to either of them._

_I’m sure there is much more I should say. Perhaps you’ll receive an entire bundle of letters from me, but I fear this might be the only one, so I shall be brave one last time. I love you Cross. I should have said so years ago, in person, but I couldn’t die without saying it to you at least this once. And I know you love me, too. It does not matter that I never gave you the chance to say it._

_Please do your best to love Allen too. If ever a boy needed and deserved to be loved, it is that one._

_Stay safe, stay well, and snatch whatever happiness you can, whenever and wherever you find it. Life is far too fleeting._

_Your friend, brother-in-arms, and heart,_

_~ Mana_

__  
P.S.  
Damn. I would have liked to end it there. But the word heart reminded me what I should have said above. I think Allen may be in possession of The Heart. He certainly has more heart than anyone I have ever met, save for you, my love. 

_Double damn. I seem to have smudged the ink above. Those are not tears. I left the window open and it is raining and windy. And I have always been, and remain, a terrible liar. I was never cut out for Circus or The Order, was I? But that’s alright. After all the innocents I have tried and failed to save in this world, I can finally rest in peace knowing that I have at least saved Allen. Until we meet again, in a far better place, my love._ _  
_

Hirato hated the look of sympathy and understanding Komui gave him, when he looked up, almost as much as he hated the feeling of unshed tears in his eyes and the lump in his throat for a man he’d spent his life despising. He cleared his throat and soldiered on. “Well, at least he mentioned me and Tokitatsu. He apparently didn’t know about Gareki,” he commented, trying to sound flippant, hating how rough his voice sounded.

“He’s still a soulless, irresponsible bastard, but at least your father knew your name. I doubt General Cross even knows mine,” Tsukitachi commented, and then winced and looked guiltily at Komui. “I’m sorry. I know they were your fathers, too, that you loved them, but Hirato and I…” Tsukitachi trailed off, apparently realizing anything he said would only dig a deeper hole.

To Hirato’s relief, Komui looked at Tsukitachi with compassion and understanding, instead of censure. “I love Mana Walker and Marian Cross as much as I love my own father. But that doesn’t mean I think they were perfect, or condone what they did. I’m only sorry that you never had the opportunity to see them as I did, for the men they were, and the good fathers they could be.”

There was a hesitant knock on the door.

“Ah, that must be Lenalee and the others,” Komui said, and he headed for the door, thankfully giving Hirato and Tsukitachi a moment to assume their usual masks of indolence and indifference.

Hirato wasn’t surprised to see that Yogi, Nai, and Kanda had joined Gareki, Allen, Lavi and Lenalee, though they hadn’t been invited, or that Yogi had brought an enormous tray of cookies to share. Lenalee had a tray of mugs which also contained both a coffee pot and teapot.

Hirato sighed. He’d have the entire rest of his life to hate his father. For tonight, he could listen, and hear about the man from someone who loved him.

Tsukitachi sat down beside Komui and Hirato sat beside his oldest friend, as the others sank down onto the sofas, Allen sandwiched between Kanda and Lavi, Lenalee on Komui’s other side, and Gareki between Yogi and Nai, as friends and family, old and new settled down for a rare quiet night of storytelling and camaraderie, far from the chaos and danger tomorrow would likely bring.


End file.
